


Euphoria

by ultharkitty



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe, Multi, Non-Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Polyamory, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-06-05 22:06:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6725362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/pseuds/ultharkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The metrotitan Euphoria is Cybertron's top private members' club, a luxury pleasure palace where all fantasies can be fulfilled. </p><p>When a colleague nominates him for membership, First Aid takes a well-needed break from work to relax and explore his innermost desires.</p><p>Vortex has come to Euphoria for his own brand of healing, chasing sensation in a bid to escape a past that still haunts him. </p><p>Seeing the potential for mutual benefit, Euphoria arranges an introduction. </p><p>* * *</p><p>This is set in an AU where the war never happened. </p><p><b>CONTAINS</b> sticky, non-sticky, enthusiastic informed consent, BDSM, rape-play and other roleplay dealing with issues of consent, violence in the context of roleplay, pet play,  tentacles, public sex, group sex, fluff, petting, aftercare, and happy polyamorous robots having kinky fun. </p><p>This one goes out to Princetailgate and 12drakon, thank you both so much for the suggestions, the encouragement and the motivation. And a massive extra thanks to 12drakon for such helpful crit :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For a while now I've been wondering, what if the war never happened? What if Vortex (as I usually write him) got the therapy he so clearly needed throughout his life? 
> 
> Then Princetailgate requested a neutral mechs AU with Vortex/First Aid, and for some reason all I could think was metrotitan pleasure palace.

Her name was Euphoria, and she was Cybertron’s most exclusive private members’ club. 

Nestled around the heart of Crystal City, her ancient arms reached deep. She cradled the urban core, and thrust her spires to the stars. Radiant and glittering, she was a part of the skyline as fundamental as the gardens and the temples, as changeable as stellar winds. 

She was beautiful, inside and out, and Vortex told her so. She laughed softly through the lips of her favourite drone, and tightened her tentacles around his wrists and thighs. He bucked his hips, straining to reach the warmth of the drone’s slick valve, and she bent to kiss him.

“Eager today?” she teased. 

“For you? Always.”

“I did wonder if you wouldn’t come,” she said, and Vortex could almost imagine that the drone was all she focused on. She bit her lip, and edged slowly down. 

He grinned. “I don’t think that was ever in dout.” 

She clenched on the tip of his cord, making him moan. “I was talking about events in Polyhex,” she said. 

“Onslaught can get elected without me,” Vortex replied, looking up into the drone’s glossy eyes. Euphoria gazed back, and made the drone lower its fine frame, its valve a delicious quivering heat, its curves a delight. 

“I’m very glad,” Euphoria said. She moved above and around him, the drone so graceful and slow, the press of her energy field firm and heady. Vortex squirmed in its embrace, happily straining against the tentacles. 

“I wouldn’t miss this,” he whispered, watching the drone’s pretty show, letting his overload build. 

Euphoria’s energy field flared, a localised symptom of her own enjoyment. She purred deep and low, and the vibrations tugged at his spark. 

When he came, the drone cried out in climax. It clenched around him, rippling like a dozen tongues, caressing and lapping. Then it flopped down on his chest, a sated, sultry look on its face. 

Euphoria nuzzled him, her translucent tentacles shifting, pooling around him. “I do so love it when friends come to stay.”

“You give the best welcome,” Vortex said, reaching up to cup the drone’s smooth face. “Did you change the finish? I like it.”

“I thought you would,” Euphoria replied, drawing him into a languid kiss. He wrapped his arms around the drone, stifling a laugh as the tentacles rubbed against his rotors. 

“How’s business?” he asked. 

“It’s good.” Euphoria stretched in the drone’s sleek frame, lifting off his cord and sprawling beside him. “Very good.” She twined her fingers around his tail rotors, and the room’s lighting dimmed, taking on a purple cast. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh?” Vortex stroked the base of the drone’s wings, smiling at the thrill that echoed through Euphoria’s energy field. 

“A new playmate,” Euphoria said. “If he pleases you… and if you please him.”

“What does he like?” Vortex asked. He wriggled as a tentacle snuck in through the half-open cover of his valve. 

“He wants to explore,” Euphoria said. She enlarged the tentacle, and he parted his thighs, drawing the cover fully back. “He has a preference for rotaries, larger partners, dangerous situations. He’s a little shy, he doesn’t know exactly what he likes just yet, but he wants to try new things.”

Vortex sighed as the tentacle wriggled over his nodes. “What kinds of things?” he said. 

“That’s for you to discuss,” Euphoria responded. “He has that innocence you like, that soft compassion with a foundation of tempered steel.” 

The tentacle grew ridges, and Vortex gasped. “I’m… intrigued.” 

Euphoria opened him wider, her energy field pulsing with the thrum of his spark. “Did I mention he’s a doctor?”

“Oh frag me, yes!”

“Those sensitive little hands,” Euphoria said. “Skillful hands. And the most perfect mouth behind his mask. Oh I think you’ll like him very much.”

“I… I think you’re right. Oh scrap, do that again!”

Euphoria kissed him. “I will if you ask nicely.”

* * *

“You’re so tense,” Pharma had told him. “You need to get out more. Take some vacation.”

First Aid sipped his cocktail in Euphoria’s Warm Welcome Bar, and attempted to relax in the soft armchair the waiter had assigned him. He hadn’t believed Pharma. 

He hadn’t thought he needed a break, he certainly hadn’t thought he needed time off. He needed a solid night’s recharge, that was all, a long hot shower, maybe a coolant change. 

“You need a good hard frag,” Pharma had said, as he sterilised his hands before an operation. “You know I’m right. How long is it since I saw you with someone? Exactly. I’m going to nominate you for membership.”

“Membership?” First Aid had asked, but the visiting t-cog specialist had arrived and there had been no time for questions. The following day First Aid received a reminder from Personnel that he had two orn’s leave he needed to use up in the next quartex, and an invitation to interview with Euphoria of Crystal City. 

He’d heard of Euphoria; who hadn’t? But he’d had no idea that Pharma was a member, and no real clue as to what that meant. 

He’d spent the whole of that evening poring through the brochure, and searching frantically online for reviews. 

He stared into his drink; that had been fruitless. There were rumours aplenty, and page after page of commentary on Euphoria’s public-access virtual reality wing, but nothing about the mysteries of private membership. 

He looked around the bar, and wondered if he’d made the right decision in coming. It wasn’t cheap, even with the gift discount Pharma had bought for him. But what use was his salary if he wasn’t going to spend it? And it had looked so tempting: the gorgeous setting, the hints of adventure and intrigue, the potential to do things he could never do in real life - all safely monitored by the metrotitan herself. 

And yes, he had to admit that it had been a while since he’d been intimate with any of his partners. It had been while since he’d even seen most of them. Groove was off planet on a quest to find himself, Blades was busy with disaster relief on alien worlds, and Springer had signed up for another tour of duty with the Galactic Peace Corps. And as for Kup, he’d bounced into Iacon a while back, stayed for one amazing night, then gone off to wherever his wanderlust would take him next. It was lovely to see them all happy, if only they weren’t so far away. 

First Aid set his drink on the glowing glass tabletop, and tried to steady his vents. His interview with Euphoria had been professional, friendly, and very thorough. She had spoken through one of her symbionts, a minibot in blue and gold with an elaborate filigree headdress whose name First Aid had been too nervous to remember. He’d given her permission to run a whole host of background checks, which she performed while he filled in a long questionnaire about his preferences and fantasies. That done, the minibot had smiled at him, and told him that his application had been approved. 

It was strange to think that only two hours had passed since then. There had been more forms to fill out, more questions to answer. When the minibot asked when he wanted his membership to begin, he was buoyed up on nervous excitement and told her straight away. 

He lifted his drink, then set it down again. He wondered if the bar’s other occupants were all waiting for their inductions too. 

After a minute, he drank the rest of his cocktail, and began to read through the menu in search of something stronger. 

“I’m very sorry you’ve had to wait.” A pleasant voice intruded on his reading, and he looked up. A streamlined lilac racer smiled down at him. “I’m Tangent, a symbiont of Euphoria. It’s lovely to meet you.” 

He stood, unsure as to whether he should offer his hand. “Thank you for meeting me.”

“No, thank _you_ ,” Tangent said. “We’re always pleased to welcome new members, especially when they come so highly recommended.” 

“Highly?” First Aid asked, following her through the bar. 

“Your nominator was very complimentary.” Tangent looked back at him and winked. “He’s a complete scoundrel, we love him here. And I’m sure we’ll love you. You look a little worried, do you feel it?”

First Aid laughed. “A little. I’ll try not to be. This is all… I’m just not sure what to expect.”

“That’s OK,” Tangent said. “I’ll take you through your induction, and you can ask any questions you like, and I mean _any_. Can you read energy fields?”

“Mostly,” First Aid replied, trailing Tangent through the bar’s glittering lobby and into a long corridor with padded matting underfoot. 

“You can feel Euphoria’s here, can’t you? I knew you could. This way.” She led him through a sliding door into a cosy octagonal room with seating all around the walls. The ceiling was a screen, showing a view of a starry sky. The door closed, cutting off all sound from the corridor. “We’ll start here,” she said, taking a seat and patting the cushion next to her. 

First Aid sat, gasping as the seat transformed to fit. Tangent smiled wider, and summoned a hardlight keypad in the air by her hand. She typed a code, and a screen appeared over the opposite walls, showing a three-dimensional map.

“This is Euphoria,” she said. “We’re here.” A tiny section of the map glowed orange. “This is the Out of Play Area for Zone Four. The map is constantly changing, Euphoria likes to move around, but the zones themselves will always exist in some form. There are eight major and twelve minor zones of play, each of which has its own Out of Play Area.”

First Aid nodded, trying to take in the whole of the map at once. 

“When you’re Out of Play, the rules are similar to regular life,” Tangent said. “There’s a full code of conduct in your membership pack, but basically if you wouldn’t do it at home, don’t do it here.”

“I understand.”

“We’re in one of this zone’s quiet rooms,” Tangent told him. “These are primarily for time out and aftercare, and don’t think that you need to be feeling any kind of extreme to use them. You may use a quiet room at any time, there are more than enough to go around.” She gestured at their location, and the map zoomed in. “As well as quiet rooms, the Out of Play Areas have entertainment suites, bars and restaurants, med support, and body care, all tailored to Cybertronians such as yourself, as well as for our off-world members. Rooms tailored to organic use will display clear labels on the doors in all relevant languages. You remember I asked you about energy fields?”

“Yes. I… It feels very calming here.”

“That’s the signature to look for,” Tangent said. “Out of Play Areas have unobtrusive points of access. You can identify them by the change in Euphoria’s energy field. If you’re too tired to read that, you can bring up the map for directions, or call for one of us to pick you up.”

First Aid stared at the map. “This is all so amazing.”

“Isn’t she just?” Tangent said. “I think Glitter went through the membership benefits with you earlier, but I just want to remind you that your membership gives you unlimited free use of all Out of Play services. The only additional cost is if you shop in play - our retail areas accept cash, card or credit account. Dining in play is free, and all fuel, coolant etc. is covered by your membership.” 

“Thank you,” First Aid said, still staring at the map.

“Euphoria is very flattered, by the way,” Tangent said, laughing kindly at his embarrassed smile, and taking his hands in hers. “She likes it when people pay attention to her layout.”

“I… I’m glad.”

Tangent kept hold of his hands, her expression taking on a serious edge. “Can I ask you a question?” she said. “This is entirely off topic, and I won’t be offended if you’d rather not answer.”

“Please, go ahead.”

Her visor dimmed slightly, and her energy field took on an eager edge. “Is it true you once worked with Metroplex?”

First Aid nodded. “A long time ago,” he said. “It was back when… when it looked like we were headed towards civil war.”

“Thank Primus we avoided that!” She patted his hands and let them go. “We thought you weren’t a stranger to metrotitans. You let your energy field out, you’re so free and open that way. Euphoria appreciates it.”

“I didn’t realise I was doing that.” First Aid said, but now that she’d mentioned it he could feel the extension, the slight extra drain on his reserves. “I’m glad it’s OK.”

“It’s more than OK.” Tangent pressed a button on the hardlight pad, and the map faded. “All this talk of energy fields brings me onto the next thing,” she said. “Safewords.” She waited a moment, catching his eye before continuing. “You can communicate the safeword verbally, via text, comms, interface, or any other way you can think of. The only thing you can’t use is your energy field. Most people don’t have the necessary control, and besides, a lot of people enjoy the sensation of the distress signal, either in themselves or in others.”

“That makes sense,” First Aid said. “Do we…”

“Make up your own?” Tangent shook her head. “There are so many variables, that wouldn’t be workable. Euphoria uses a universal safeword: ‘Code Zero’. Code Zero will bring play to an instant halt, and give you the breathing space to decide what you want to do next.” She sat back. “Some of our members agree a false safeword with their partners, especially when they’re indulging in a fantasy of a consensual situation gone wrong, or in extreme pain play, but Code Zero will always be respected.”

“That’s good to know.” First Aid glanced up at the stars on the ceiling. “In my interview, um, Euphoria said that it’s possible to match people with similar interests and introduce them.”

Tangent’s visor gleamed and she grinned wide. “Oh, we already have someone in mind for you. We think you could have a wonderful time together.”

First Aid tried to gasp and grin at the same time. “Really? So quickly?”

“Matching people is one of Euphoria’s great pleasures,” Tangent said. “Now, I just have a few more things to run through. We don’t give a physical induction of In Play areas. We like to allow our guests to explore at their own pace, and we find that surprise often adds to the experience. Your membership pack has a complete list of all the areas and any specific points of etiquette that apply, but we strongly believe that it’s far more fun to explore the zones with other members. Especially for someone with your preferences.” She smiled. “And you can always comm us or use Euphoria’s closed datanet if you have any queries. Have you got the codes saved?” 

First Aid nodded, running a quick check to make sure they were still there. He sat straighter, the nervous excitement bubbling along with a dozen questions, but he managed to make himself listen. 

“As some people like to play disaster-rescue scenarios, there are in-play sirens that could activate in several areas.” Tangent brought the map back, pointing out the different locations. “In the event of a real emergency, we use a wireless notification system which looks like this.” The warning image appeared on screen. “We test this once a quartex at noon, and the message will begin with a notification that this is a test. All you need to do is acknowledge receipt.”

He leaned forward, hands sinking into the cushions. “Will do.”

“In the event of a real emergency, Euphoria will guide everyone to safety,” Tangent said with a smile. “We’ll take good care of you. Now, do you have any questions?”

First Aid thought for a moment. “No. Not, um, really. That all sounds fine. Just, how does it happen, when Euphoria matches potential partners? I mean, how do you introduce us?”

Tangent leaned her head on her hand. “It’s all taken care of,” she said. “I’ve booked you a private booth at our Starlight Symphony bar here in Zone Four’s Out of Play area. You’ll have a chance to meet each other and talk. There’s no obligation to take it any further. If you don’t hit it off, there are three thousand and fifty two Cybertronians currently in play, Euphoria can easily make another match.”

First Aid’s optics rebooted. “That many?” 

Tangent laughed, and stood. “We’re very popular,” she said. “Now, I’d like to show you to your room, and after that it should be time to head over to the Starlight.”

* * *

His room turned out to be an apartment, a cosy slice of luxury in the residential section of Zone Four’s Out of Play Area. He’d expected a hotel - there had been images of hotels in the brochure, glittering with mosaics and scattered with modern art - but this was nothing like the pictures. 

It was closer to the holiday villas he’d always wanted to visit out on Eukaria or Nebulos. Low-rise apartment blocks clustered around large pools full of cyborganic fishes and genuine alien fauna. Potted plants formed secluded avenues, and there was even a stall with a drone vending iced coolant and energon treats. A false sun hung overhead in a bright blue sky, bathing everything in a warm, clean light. 

He hadn’t brought much in the way of luggage. Just his portable med-kit, a wash bag, and a few datapads. Euphoria’s people had brought his case into the apartment’s living room, and set it next to a table with a welcome note and a selection of different flavoured fuels. 

The windows showed a vista of realistic views, which he could change by wireless or voice command, and the bedroom contained an adjustable platform of the kind First Aid had always dreamed. Even the shower was aspirational, with fifteen different nozzles, forty settings, and a selection of complimentary body-care samples, each one tailored to the needs of his frame. 

Tangent offered to give him a few breems to freshen up, and he agreed glady. She went outside, and he took another tour around the apartment. Everything was perfect, each surface at the right height, each piece of furniture the correct size for his frame. He spent a few minutes testing every setting on the shower, from a light drizzle like summer rain on an alien world, to a torrent that made him sigh, and almost made him forget to try any of the samples. 

There was an integrated air drier in the shower, a cushion of warmth gusting in on him from all sides, and an automatic buffer on rollers which extended from the walls. Freshly clean, he allowed himself a moment to flop onto the bed. His spark spun with a pleasant anticipation, his mind going over and over the things he had told Euphoria, trying to work out what kind of person she might have chosen for him. 

It was such an enticing idea, meeting a stranger for the express purpose of fulfilling erotic fantasies. First Aid couldn’t keep the smile off his face, and welcomed the tingle of anticipation that came on every time his mind cycled around again to the realisation of where he was and what he was doing. 

“You look ravishing,” Tangent said, when he stepped out of the apartment. She was leaning on the balcony, her spoiler tilted to the warmth of the imitation sun. “Are you ready?”

* * *

The Starlight Symphony was a whole new world of surprises. First Aid stepped into the bar and almost lost his footing when he couldn’t see the floor. He looked down into a hologram so vast, so complex it was as though he stood above a nebula. Tangent squeezed his arm and told him to look around. There was no ceiling, no walls; the central hub of the bar and the little glass pods with their private booths were the only indicators that they hadn’t stepped into a VR suite. 

“It’s beautiful,” First Aid said softly, and Tangent laughed. 

“Euphoria thanks you for your kind comment,” she said. “And you don’t need to whisper, all the booths are soundproofed. Yours is to the side here. She steered First Aid to one of the pods, and the dome slid back. “Take a seat. Euphoria tells me your companion will be with us shortly.”

From his seat, First Aid could see nothing but stars. It didn’t stop him from staring out, trying to catch a glimpse of someone headed his way. He wanted to ask who Euphoria had paired him with, what they were like, what to expect, but he couldn’t get the questions out, and Tangent’s body language had changed as she moved to welcome the newcomer.

“Oh my, biolights?” she said, stepping away from the booth to give First Aid’s companion a brief embrace. “Those must be new.”

“I had an upgrade,” he replied, and First Aid stood to see him better. And stared. 

Tangent smiled. “First Aid, I’d like to introduce you to Vortex.”

First Aid swallowed; Euphoria had found him a rotary. A tall, broad-shouldered rotary with glimmering teal biolights and swaying hips. He resisted the urge to leap into the newcomer’s arms, and held out his hand and wrist cable. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The rotary accepted with a smile that had more than a hint of wickedness to it. “Likewise,” he said. His databurst was friendly and informal, and First Aid warmed at the compliment embedded within it. 

“I’ll let you two get to know each other,” Tangent said. “Euphoria would like to assure you that she won’t be listening to your conversation while the glass dome of the pod is sealed, but she will continue to monitor your spark signatures and energy fields at all times. Just comm if you need me.”

“Will do,” First Aid replied, not looking away from the rotary. “I, um. Shall we?”

Vortex settled, the seat transforming around his rotors. “This is your first time?” he said. 

“A colleague nominated me for membership,” First Aid replied. He sat and watched the dome come down. The pod was cosy, the dark glass making it all the more intimate. “I’m very new to this. Have you… done this before? I mean with someone new to Euphoria?”

Vortex grinned. “A few times,” he said. “Did you want something to drink?” 

“A solar core, please, with sours.” First Aid watched him type in their order. He swallowed. “Do you mind if I ask you something?” 

“Ask me anything you like.”

“Do your fingers transform?”

“You’re _good_ ,” Vortex said, holding up his hand for a demonstration. The fingertips moved smoothly between blunt and clawed, a subtle near-silent transformation. “Not many people would notice something like that. I get the impression you like it.”

“I… It’s very impressive,” First Aid said, and laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m so used to deflecting from the personal, I have to be very detached at work. OK, yes. Yes, I like it.”

“What else do you like?” Vortex asked, looking up as the dome opened long enough for the waiter to deliver their drinks. 

“Um, I…” First Aid picked up his cocktail. “I like a lot of things. It’s hard to know where to start. What do _you_ like?”

Vortex laughed. “I like hot doctors with beautiful hands and firm round tyres,” he said. “And I especially like it when they get flustered.” He picked up his cube, a triple distilled high grade with some kind of sweet syrup floating on the top. He sipped, holding First Aid’s gaze, then licked his lips. “I like what I see.”

First Aid couldn’t help but grin. “I… so do I,” he said, feeling a little more suave. “What about interfacing preferences?” 

“I’m easy,” Vortex responded. He saw First Aid try not to laugh, and added, “OK, that... yeah, I’m letting that stand. I like a bit of everything.”

First Aid sipped his cocktail, wishing he’d thought to ask for coolant. “Everything?” 

“Sometimes all at once.” The rotary’s optics narrowed beneath his visor. “What do you prefer?”

“Well…” First Aid put his drink down for fear he’d crush the glass. “I like… I have… Oh Primus, I didn’t think it’d be so hard to talk about this!” He coughed, then vented deep, but when he tried to speak he just giggled. With effort he got a hold of himself, and was reassured to note that Vortex was openly admiring his frame. “I’m so sorry, I’m not usually like this…” He took a vent and forged on at speed. “I have the Hyperion Model Three array with phase two adjustments. I… I enjoy being on the receiving end most of all, but I’m more than happy to, um, to give? I love cables, energy fields, harmonics, everything.”

“Sparks?” Vortex asked, and the tone of his voice made First Aid shiver.

“Very much,” he said. 

“Is there anything you don’t enjoy?”

First Aid sat back, looking up at the stars. “I don’t know,” he said. “There are things that don’t appeal to me, but… the danger of them does appeal, the potential that they _could_ happen, so I don’t want to veto them.” He looked to Vortex. “Does that make sense?”

“You like risk,” Vortex said, and waited for him to nod before continuing. “But you haven’t had the opportunity to do anything like that in your everyday life.”

“Yes, yes, you’ve got it. Work is full of other kinds of risk, but outside of that...”

“What’s the riskiest thing you’ve ever done?” Vortex lifted his drink, and transformed a fingertip to stir it. “For fun, I mean.”

First Aid watched a moment, opening his vent covers wide. “I… once interfaced with someone I’d only just met - a friend of a friend - in an art gallery in Iahex.”

“Did you like it?”

“Until we got caught!” First Aid said. “Luckily the guard thought it was funny and we didn’t get fined. That was back in my intern days.”

“So it’s true what they say about medics?”

First Aid made his optics flicker. “That depends on what you’ve heard them say.”

Vortex laughed and put his feet up on the table. “I think they say some very promising things,” he said. “Do you enjoy multiple partners?” 

“I’d like to try,” First Aid replied, and went to take another sip of his drink only to realise it was all gone. 

“Another?” Vortex asked, but First Aid shook his head.

“Some coolant,” he said. “And... maybe a very small shot of high grade.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to try?” Vortex asked, as he typed in the order. “Drinks, or otherwise…”

First Aid vented hot air, and let his optics roam over the rotary’s solid chest. “There are a few things,” he said. “More than a few.” He grew quiet as the waiter delivered his drinks. The shot went down smooth, the fumes lingering on his tongue. “I’m sorry it’s so hard to think of specifics. I should have written this down.”

Vortex wriggled his rotors into the plush. “What would you like to try first?” 

“Anything you want,” First Aid said. “I mean, if you’d like to. I’d like to. I don’t really know what to expect, but I like that. I like the thrill of surprise, I like the... the idea of danger. You could do anything to me.” He coughed. 

“I have an idea,” Vortex said. His hands were folded on his lap; if only he’d shift them just a little, pat his thigh in invitation. First Aid wouldn’t have hesitated. 

“I’m listening,” he said, letting the coolant wet his lips. 

“I’d like to take you on a walk through Zone Five. You can take a look, see what you like.”

First Aid pulled up his internal list of Euphoria’s zones. One to Five were labelled as soft zones; no gore, no vore, no rape play, no violence, but no prohibition on public intimacy, on exhibitionism, on being roughly, happily swept off his feet. He let his energy field extend.

“We’d just be watching?” he said, letting the coolant flow over his tongue. “This time?”

“Maybe,” Vortex said. “Maybe not. You like the thrill of uncertainty?”

First Aid swallowed. “Very much.”

“And you know Code Zero?”

“Yes, I won’t forget that.”

“Well then,” Vortex said, throwing back the rest of his drink. “Shall we?”


	2. Chapter 2

Zone Five was a short walk from the bar. Vortex led, giving First Aid the occasional pleasant view of his rotor array. The blades were so inviting, at once smooth and sharp, his bodywork temptingly touchable.

“We’re here,” he said, as the airy corridor opened onto a soothing white plaza lined with quiet rooms and a cheerful detailing shop. Outside the shop a symbiont sat reading while a drone polished her feet. She smiled and waved, and a welcome message sprang up on First Aid’s HUD. 

He waved at the symbiont and sent a thank you to Euphoria. The entrance to zone five was at the end of the plaza, and as they neared it he noticed the shift in her energy field that marked the transition between Out of Play and In Play areas. 

“Are you ready?” Vortex asked, pausing with a hand on the door. 

“I… Yes. Yes, I’m ready.” 

“We'll take it slow. Remember, we've got all the time we need.” 

First Aid nodded, a thrill in his spark, and Euphoria let them through. 

Zone Five was made of light and air, and a pleasant unfamiliar perfume. It was immense and open, a vast domed space dominated by a multi-level garden lush with alien fauna and jewelled with abstract crystal sculptures. Above them, the dome showed a deep and realistic hologram of an alien sky where twin suns sank towards a fiery horizon. A warm breeze tickled his vents, and First Aid smiled, trying to take in everything at once. 

Of the three thousand and fifty two other Cybertronians currently in play, very few were in evidence. A seeker lounged nearby, a minibot sprawled sleeping on her chest; a trio of racers sped past, laughing. 

“This way,” Vortex said, taking a sharp right, onto a path that First Aid hadn’t even noticed. It sloped gradually up, past the entrance to a bar where a couple were kissing over cocktails, and a glittering mosaic-studded arch which lead into a tunnel beneath the garden, with signs advertising all kinds of shops. The garden seemed made of hidden paths and secluded groves, the perfect place to act out fantasies of secret trysts, to be seduced by someone he’d only just met. 

Another twist in the path, and First Aid gasped. A break in the foliage gave him a breathtaking view across the garden, a rainbow vista of multicoloured organic plants and glimmering sculptures. The sunset lent everything a ruddy glow, the light deepening as he watched. 

“Is it ever night here?” he asked, wondering how Euphoria set the days, if there was consistency across zones, if it was perpetually evening. 

“Sometimes,” Vortex said, a secretive smile on his lips. “There’s something I want to show you, come on.”

First Aid followed, but slowly. Each new vista was a treat, every gap in the vegetation a window onto things he’d never seen before: plants with tendrils that waved in the wind, with seed pods that rattled and leaves so thin he could see right through them. Flowers strained to the false suns, pollen rich in the air. 

He stopped to sniff a particularly heady alien scent, fingers reaching for the blossom that produced it. The petals were soft, tiny hairs tingling on his fingertips. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” he said. “It’s so delicate.”

Vortex watched him a moment, not answering. When he approached, First Aid held still, pretending his attention was still fixed on the flower. He sent a ripple through his energy field, and shivered as Vortex responded, trailing a finger along the back of his neck. It didn’t quite make contact, but their energy fields mingled pleasantly. Then First Aid laughed as Vortex lifted him and spun him around. 

He sat Aid on his hip, an arm around his back, a hand under his aft. “If you’re going to dawdle, I’ll just have to carry you.”

First Aid grinned. “I’ll remember that,” he said, clinging to Vortex’s shoulder as they set off again. 

The path continued to climb, a gentle slope interspersed with the occasional set of steps. First Aid tried not to squirm, and craned to get a better view of the garden. He bit his lip, tempted to grab hold of the closest of Vortex’s rotors, to see where that would get him. The hand under his aft was an odd sensation, his thighs splayed around the rotary’s hips and a finger laid across the edge of his interface panel. He thought of being carried with his panels off, and had to open his vent covers wide as he heated. 

“You like that, don’t you?” Vortex said, using his free hand to tilt First Aid’s chin. 

“I like everything,” First Aid replied, and let his energy field flare. “This is all so beautiful.”

“Turn off your visual feed,” Vortex said. “That thing I want to show you, it has to be a surprise.”

First Aid bit his lip to stop from grinning so hard, and turned his optics off. The lack of vision made him focus more on his other senses, the tingle of his energy field, the activation of touch and electromagnetic sensors hidden beneath his armour, the smell of warm oil and alien botanics. A breeze kissed the back of his neck, and the gravel path crunched as Vortex walked along it. 

When they stopped, First Aid fought to keep his optics off. Something pressed lightly to his lips, a fingertip tracing their outline, but was gone before he could open his mouth. 

When Vortex spoke, it was barely a whisper. “Take a look.”

First Aid let his optics boot, and gasped. They were at the apex of the garden, in a wide clearing bordered by thick green fronds. The larger of the false suns was touching the horizon, the smaller already gone. The dome was a clear deep blue, with the glimmer of the first few stars and the round globe of a moon approaching the apex, growing brighter with every moment. 

The centre of the clearing was marked out with biolights, glowing purple and blue from a carpet of soft swaying grasses. Bounded by the lights, and set in a wide clay bowl on a plinth of marble, a crystalline plant had begun to bloom. 

Enraptured, First Aid watched as the rolled leaves unfurled, a thousand tiny blossoms straining for the sky. They reached towards the false moon, row upon row of minute petals folding back, each one translucent and prismatic. 

They weren’t alone in the clearing. A small crowd had gathered, each newcomer entering quietly, all optics on the rare alien lifeform. 

First Aid’s vents stalled as the blossoms quivered, then he sighed as the plant began to sing. It lasted a few brief astroseconds, a harmony of crystalline ringing so complex he could hardly perceive all the parts. Then the blossoms stilled, and the crowd began to disperse.

“That was amazing,” First Aid whispered. “What is that?”

“It’s from Thylaxia,” Vortex said. “Don’t ask me the scientific name. Euphoria was so pleased when she got it to grow.”

“I never knew there were things like this.”

“Have you ever been off planet?”

First Aid laughed and leaned his head on Vortex’s shoulder. “I’m from offworld,” he said. “I’m a colony bot, I was built on Archon.”

“Not many organics on Archon?”

“None,” First Aid replied. He looked around, taking in the ferns and the grasses and the trees. As the dusk crept in, the crystalline plant began to glow, scattering rainbows with an inner light. “Nothing could have prepared me for this,” he said. “If I end up sleeping through the rest of my vacation, this will have been worth it.” He tore his optics from the plant. “Not that I plan on doing that,” he said. 

“I wouldn’t let you if you tried,” Vortex said, that wicked smile returning. For a moment First Aid wondered if Vortex was about to put him down, then he adjusted his grip, more fingers encroaching on the edge of Aid’s intimate cover, and they were moving again. 

There were lights in the foliage, changing the nature of the groves, deepening the shadows. Vortex took a new path, and within two turns First Aid had lost his bearings. Looking up didn’t help; immense ferns formed a gauzy canopy, and the pattern of stars was reduced to the occasional faint twinkle. 

The undergrowth rustled beside them, and someone giggled. Vortex took another turn, past a gnarled tree whose upper branches barely reached his waist, into a deeper darkness offset by the glow from his visor and the soft gleam of his biolights. 

“I’m going to set you down,” Vortex said. “I want you to stay where I put you, OK?”

First Aid nodded, a shiver in his energy field. Vortex lifted him easily, as though he weighed nothing, and sat him gently down in what felt like a hammock made of vines. First Aid began to look around, the hammock swinging as he turned to see what kind of trees supported it, what types of bloom spread their fragrance from the woven branches of the arbour. A soft laugh brought his attention back to Vortex, and he let his limbs relax. 

“Sorry,” he said. 

“You don’t need to be sorry.” The vines settled as the rotary knelt on the ground in front of him, his hands on First Aid’s knees. “You want to explore, it’s only natural.” He flickered his energy field. “We both want to explore.”

First Aid couldn’t stop himself grinning. He nodded, fingers twined in the vines. 

“So I know you like beautiful things,” Vortex said, smoothing both hands down First Aid’s shins, causing him to shiver. “I know you enjoy new sensations.” He lifted one of First Aid’s feet, and drew a claw along the line of pressure sensors just next to the tyre. “I know you like to be lifted and carried… and I know you like my claws.” He wriggled the claw into the gap behind the wheel, the ghost of a sharpness tingling along his axel.

First Aid sighed, throwing back his head and staring up at the mesh of leaves. 

“Look at me,” Vortex said softly. “Look right at me, that’s it.” He licked his lips and planted a kiss on the inside of First Aid’s ankle. “Are you watching?” He licked the edge of the wheel arch. “I need you to answer me. Are you watching?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m watching!” And reacting; his spark warming, his fans clicking on. His cord was already at half pressure and Vortex had only teased that tiny part of his foot. 

“I want to find out what else you like.” Vortex said, giving the tyre a firm squeeze. “Do you like to pleasure yourself?” 

The question was a pleasant shock, and First Aid nodded, enjoying the jolt of warmth through his spark. 

“Hmm?” Vortex prompted.

“Yes! Yes, I do.”

“How do you like to pleasure yourself?”

“I… Oh!” He shivered as Vortex ran his claws over the taut rubber. “I like to… I have a toy, a… false cord, I…”

“Slowly,” Vortex said. “Take your time. Tell me what you do, what you think about.”

“I…” It was a struggle not to spread his legs further, in a mirror of the position he would take when he wanted to let off a little steam. He drew a deep vent. “I take a shower,” he said quietly. “A long shower. I keep my covers open, and I shutter my optics.”

“What do you see, when your eyes are covered?”

“I… see a friend, a partner, he’s so large and strong, and I picture him leaning over me, talking to me and I’m pinned to the wall, and his arms are like a cage, I… Can I talk about this here?”

“You can talk about anything you like,” Vortex said, kissing the tyre and hooking the foot over his shoulder. “There are things we can’t do here, but you can talk about them, quietly, like this. Tell me what you imagine your partner doing.”

“He stands over me, and he tells me to open my covers,” First Aid said, his vents coming quicker under the intensity of Vortex’s attention. “And he picks me up, and holds… holds my legs apart and sometimes there are others watching, waiting. He doesn’t ask, he just tells me, and sometimes I imagine myself resisting, and sometimes I don’t, and… and…”

Vortex lifted his leg higher, kissing the back of his knee, the lowermost part of the inside of his thigh. “What do you do with the toy while you imagine him taking his pleasure?”

“I… I push it inside.” First Aid swallowed, watching the progress of Vortex’s claws between his legs. “I don’t last long, it’s always so quick, but I dry myself and keep…” He coughed. “I keep the toy inside myself, and close my cover, and use it again before I shut down for the night.”

“How many times?”

“Twice… sometimes more. I have a… stressful job. It helps.”

“You don’t have to apologise for making yourself come,” Vortex said, finally edging those kisses further up his thigh. “In fact, I’d like to watch you,” he said, and nudged First Aid’s thighs apart. He leaned on the hammock, First Aid’s foot still hooked over his shoulder. “Do you ever just use your fingers?”

First Aid bit his lip. “Sometimes.” 

“Make yourself come for me.”

“You want… Oh Primus.”

“The spark in your energy field tells me you’d like that,” Vortex said. “Am I right?”

First Aid covered his face, then forced himself to put his hands back at his sides. “I… Oh scrap, you have no idea how much you’ve got me charged already!”

“Show me,” Vortex demanded, and First Aid drew back his covers. His hands were shaking, the tip of his cord jutting just proud of the edge of his armour. He watched Vortex settle, arms folded, chin on his hands, before trailing a trembling finger around his anterior node. The touch was a shock; it didn’t matter that it was his own hand, his nub was swollen, his opening slick and wet. He dipped two fingers just inside, and used them to moisten the node, easing the passage of his hand. 

“Do you often imagine yourself pinned?” Vortex asked, watching the glow of First Aid’s biolights. the movement of his fingers. “Do you like to think of yourself held, helpless?”

First Aid nodded, stroking his node, then dipping down to push those two fingers inside himself. He hooked them around, not deep enough to catch his ceiling node, but far and wide enough to create a little extra friction. 

“Does he always take your valve?” Vortex asked, leaning forward to kiss the back of First Aid’s knuckles. 

“Not… always!”

“What else does he do?”

First Aid shivered, his valve quivering around his fingers. “He makes me kneel,” he said, bringing his other hand into play, caressing his node. “I… imagine him making me do… all kinds of things. With my mouth, my… hands, and I imagine him sharing me.”

“You’d make such beautiful shareware,” Vortex said. “I can see it now. On your knees with your pretty mouth full, they’re all so much bigger than you, so much stronger.” He leaned forward as First Aid shivered with the soaring charge. “I can see them lifting you, holding you between them and pounding into you, while the others wait their turn.”

First Aid came as quietly as he could, his valve shuddering around his fingers, his node pulsing to the thrum of his spark. He lay back and vented long and deep; the first time was always the most intense.

“Look at you,” Vortex said softly, lifting his hand and pulling his fingers gently from his valve. “So beautiful.” He lapped the tips of First Aid’s fingers, before tugging them into his mouth. 

First Aid groaned, the hot wet pressure reminding him that although he’d reached climax, he hadn’t actually been filled. 

Vortex sucked his fingers clean, first one hand, then the other. He smiled down at the pulsing biolights, their pattern just beginning to settle again. “How do you feel about restraints?” he asked.

First Aid let his head flop back. “Primus, yes.”

“And toys?”

First Aid laughed. “Definitely toys.”

“Collars?”

“Those too. Anything you can think of. Everything.”

Vortex laughed softly. “You put on a very good show,” he said. “I think you deserve a treat.”

A few choice responses came to mind, and First Aid fought for the words to demand a kiss, to invite the presence of Vortex’s cord in his valve as quickly as possible. But Vortex sucked hard on his fingertips and his focus shattered. “What kind of treat?” he managed.

“You’ll see,” Vortex said. “Let’s get you clean.”

* * *

On his own feet again, First Aid walked with Vortex through the winding pathways of the moonlit garden. He tingled from his heels to his hands. Most of the tingling focused around his nub and his spark, but his fingers were more than ready to be sucked on again. Vortex had cleaned him like one of his regular partners might prepare him for interface; slow and luxuriant, each stroke combined with a flicker of his energy field, each rub of the cloth with a kiss to a particularly sensitive part of him. By the end he was considering begging to be spiked, but he held his tongue; he could take it slow.

Every so often they came across a couple or a group of lovers at various stages of play. Some ignored them, some called out to them with laughter and invitation, and one sleek little minibot locked optics with First Aid and licked her smiling lips as her far larger partner filled her. 

Always Vortex kept close, their arms touching, their energy fields enmeshed. “Would you like to be her?” he asked quietly. “She loves being watched.”

“I… I think I need to try that.” First Aid leaned against Vortex, watching the minibot arch, pulling herself up to the tip of the her partner’s gleaming red cord before sinking urgently down. Her partner held her hips, visor dimmed and her own lips pursed in a sigh of contentment. 

When Vortex picked him up again he gasped and clung, and wished he had the nerve to bare himself. It wouldn’t take a vast shift in his position, and he’d have his legs wrapped around Vortex’s waist, his port in just the right position to receive a stiffening cord. But Vortex kept him on his hip, that secretive grin on his lips. 

“I can’t work out if it’s anticipation or mischief in your energy field,” First Aid commented. 

“A bit of both.” 

“Do I need to close my eyes again?”

Vortex shifted his weight, his fingertips tapping on Aid’s panel. “I’ll let you know when and if you need to,” he said. “Tell me, is there anywhere you don’t like to be touched?”

“In… what way?”

“Gently,” Vortex said. “Pleasantly.”

First Aid shivered. “I can’t think of anywhere,” he replied, thinking of several places he specifically _did_ want to be touched, and soon. But Vortex veered off the gravel path and First Aid was distracted by the light and bustle of a little piazza bounded by greenery. A knot of seekers knelt by a fountain, a pair of grounders standing in front of them, enjoying the lap and suckle of eager mouths on their cords. On the steps of the fountain a Forluxian was watching, hir tentacles extended to caress the closest seeker’s wings. Just past hir a couple fed each other glowing energon sweets, and a large group giggled around one of a dozen low-lit tables while a waiter served them drinks. 

Past the cafe was a high arched door built into the side of the hill. First Aid watched the glitter of the tesserae as he passed beneath it, the tiny slices of brightly coloured glass arranged to form stylised echoes of the equally graceful plants outside. 

The tunnel was wide and short, and glittered like the night sky. First Aid reached out a hand to see whether it was another hologram, but the walls were made of dark blue glass, subtly lit to reflect the million tiny grains of copper suspended in them like stars. 

First Aid was so captured by the goldstone that the octagon took him by surprise. A lofty, open space, again glittering and star spun, It made him sigh. He clung to Vortex, looking everywhere and anywhere, and laughed, a little dizzy, as Vortex marched him down another hallway. 

The mall was like a hive, a network of interconnected and intimate octagonal spaces linked by tunnels that were at once cozy and comfortably large. The octagons supported massive window displays and open doors, revealing glimpses of luxury goods and exuding the smells of a hundred different fuels First Aid was sure he’d never tried. The hallways sported smaller doors, as discreet as they were intriguing. 

Vortex paused before one of them, and First Aid craned to read the sign above it. But Vortex covered his visor and whispered, “No peeking.”

Inside, the air was scented with expensive oils and high quality wax. First Aid couldn’t help but grin; his treat was surely a detailing. But he turned his optics off and kept quiet as Vortex walked him through the shop, past the pleasant cool breeze from a vent and through another door (which made an audible whoosh as it opened and closed) into a slightly warmer space. 

“I’m going to set you down,” Vortex said. “But I want you to keep your optics off.”

First Aid nodded, and bit his lip to stop from laughing as Vortex lay him on a high plinth. 

“He’s a lovely one,” a rich voice said, and First Aid only just managed to keep his visuals offline. “You have the best taste,” she said, the tingle of her energy field brushing against First Aid’s shoulder. “What will it be?”

“Keep him smiling,” Vortex said. “I want to see him melt.”

“I’ll see what we can do,” the newcomer replied. “Hubcap, Tasker, this is Vortex. I want you to make his partner very happy.”

“Of course, mistress,” a new voice answered, and a second said, “It will be our pleasure.”

For a moment First Aid wondered whether their mistress might be another of Euphoria’s symbionts, but there was no way to tell as Hubcap and Tasker took hold of his hands and began to polish him.

It was wonderful. From the first sure touch First Aid felt his cables loosen, and it wasn’t long before he could happily have floated off to sleep. And he would have, if it wasn’t for Vortex leaning over his head, stroking his cheek, his lips, whispering to him about how gorgeous he looked laid out like that, how enticing the glimmer of his biolights, how firm and tempting his tires. 

By the end First Aid was caught between yawning and an excess of charge he had no idea what to do with. 

“I’ve worn you out,” Vortex commented, as First Aid finally brought his visuals back online. “It’s been a long first session, I think I should take you home.” 

First Aid opened his mouth to protest, and stifled another yawn. He looked around, but Hubcap and Tasker had gone. “I don’t want this to end,” he said. 

Vortex smiled and lifted him, this time with an arm around his back and one under his knees. “There’s always tomorrow,” he said. “You need to defrag.” 

First Aid couldn’t disagree. 

* * *

Vortex took him to the nearest suite of quiet rooms. The lights were low, and a soft watery music seemed to waft from the walls. 

_Stay a while,_ First Aid thought, but he didn’t have to speak. Vortex sat with him on a floor that seemed entirely made of cushions, and let First Aid squirm and roll until he was comfortably curled under Vortex’s arm, one hand on the rotary’s chest. 

He sighed. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but I could do all that again.”

“All of it?” Vortex asked, stroking the edge of First Aid’s helm. 

“It was wonderful. I… I’ve never experienced anything like that. The gardens, the… way you watched me. The things you said. I really liked that.”

“What else did you like?”

First Aid yawned and stretched a little. “The potential that anything could happen,” he said after a moment’s thought. “They way you cleaned my fingers, the way you carried me, everything. I… I won’t say it wasn’t a little awkward watching other people the first few times, but there was definitely something to it.” He paused, thinking of the lithe minibot taking that wide, long spike.

Vortex rippled his energy field. “But?” he suggested. 

Ridiculous as it was, First Aid felt the blush rise. “But I’d rather be the one being watched,” he said. 

“Oh, I’m sure we can arrange that.”

First Aid grinned. “I hope you can.” He pressed his palm to Vortex’s chest. “Did… Was this fulfilling for you?”

“Very,” Vortex didn’t hesitate, and that was nice. Nicer still was the sweetly chaste kiss on the helm. 

“But we didn’t-”

“We don’t have to do everything right away. How long are you staying?”

“An orn,” First Aid said. “Maybe two. I needed to use up some leave. What about you?”

“The rest of the quartex.” He stared up at the star-speckled ceiling. “I have an idea for tomorrow. What do you say to meeting me at five at the entrance to Zone Three?”

“I’d love to,” First Aid said. He yawned again, and pushed groggily up. “I think I’d better get some recharge. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

Vortex laughed. “You too,” he replied, and folded his arms above his head, his tail rotors fanning out. 

First Aid couldn’t help his smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

* * *

By the time he arrived back at the apartment the drowsiness was gone. The charge still lingered, a taste of things to come, along with a small dose of regret that he hadn’t outright asked Vortex to frag him. He shook his head, pausing in the living room to grab a cube of coolant; he didn’t need to move so fast. They had an orn, at least. And besides, Vortex had taken it far further than he’d seriously expected for their first date. Session. Whatever he was meant to call it. It was one thing to have an excited quick fumble in an art gallery with someone he’d only just met, and another thing entirely to open up like that to a stranger, to share his fantasies, to bring himself to climax under the scrutiny of such an attentive gaze. 

Downing the coolant, First Aid hunted down his luggage and reached into the side pocket. He’d almost left his toy behind, thinking he could never want for it, not here, but he was glad he hadn’t; he needed this. 

He fell back onto the bed, sending a wireless signal to kill the lights. The foam was soft, the covers smooth as a whispered breeze from a lover’s vents. He parted his thighs and pushed the spike deep inside on the first thrust. A flick of the base made it buzz, and a subtle shift widened the shaft, the ridges growing more pronounced. 

He lasted longer than he anticipated, the urge to sleep returning as the strong vibrations both stimulated him and urged him to relax. He thought of what tomorrow might bring, of what new layer of himself he might strip bare, of what Vortex might choose to do with him, and fell asleep with a smile on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

First Aid slept the morning through, getting up to shower and clean his toy before throwing himself back on the bed for an hour of half-dozing fantasies. When he ventured outside, he took a data pad, and sat by the pool in the warmth of the indoor sun. The vending drone came over, and he took a box of small iced treats, letting them melt on his tongue as he read. 

Zone Three looked promising. Labelled ‘soft pet play’, it gave the impression of light-hearted teasing and indulgent touches. Interface was permitted throughout the zone, with the exception of one area, which would be clearly labelled. First Aid’s finger hovered over the hyperlink to find out more, but he bit his lip and decided to wait and see. He reviewed the zone’s other rules instead. They were the same as the rest of Zones One to Five: no violence, no rape play. For his second date, he could live with that. 

“Hi there.” A shadow passed briefly over him, and the soft rounded curves of a short-range shuttle came into view. “I don’t want to disturb you, I just wanted to say hello seeing as we’re neighbours and all.”

First Aid sat up, instantly offering his hand and data cable. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

She smiled, as warm and welcoming as her energy field, and accepted both. Her name was Star Rise - it was embedded in her data burst - and she was a regular at Euphoria. 

“Do you mind if I...” She gestured at the next seat over, a transformable lounger with a sunshade that matched the pinks and oranges of her armour. 

“Please, it’s nice to have some company.” First Aid lay the data pad on his lap. “I’ve only been here since yesterday, just reading up on a few things.”

Star Rise settled, one leg crooked and her solar panels extended. “I practically live in Zone Four,” she said. “Five’s lovely too. Have you been in play yet?”

“I’ve been to Zone Five,” First Aid said. “Last night.” He called up the data net on his HUD. Talking about play was prohibited outside of Euphoria, but he couldn’t remember the rules on discussing play while still inside the metrotitan. As it turned out, it was encouraged. 

“Oh! Did you see the moon flower? That’s always a treat.”

“We did. It was beautiful.”

Star Rise grinned. “So you came here with a partner?” She glanced up at the apartment. 

“No, by myself. Euphoria kindly arranged a match.”

“That’s so lovely!” Star Rise grinned wider. “Did the two of you hit it off? She’s so good at pairing people up.”

First Aid smiled and looked down, his cheeks warming. “I… I rather think we did.”

“Oooh, tell me more!”

First Aid laughed; he hadn’t blushed like this since the incident at the art gallery. “She found someone my type,” he said. “I... like rotaries. I _really_ like rotaries. And Peacekeeper frames.”

“Nice and big and chunky?” Star Rise offered. “Oh I know what you mean.”

“I think he might actually be Peacekeeper, maybe? Or he used to be. He’s got the build and the mods. And he’s so kind and… and focused. Attentive. And tactile. But he’s got this wicked side. A little dangerous, I don’t know.”

“Turns your ignition?” Star Rise suggested. 

“Yes, he really does.”

“He sounds like Exult. She’s my primary partner. I met her here maybe a vorn back. She’s got shoulders like a Prime, and her arms… It was her arms I noticed first. I remember thinking, she can pick me up any time.”

“Is she here with you now?”

“She’s in Zone Four,” Star Rise said. “She likes to live in play when we’re here. Me, I like a bit of both - play and just sitting here pretending I’m on some beautiful alien planet without a care in the universe, y’know?”

First Aid sighed deeply. “Tell me about it.”

* * *

In the depths of Zone Fifteen, Vortex yawned his way from recharge. His foot was numb, his rotors itchy. He stretched, and the minibot slumped over his leg moaned. A light breeze drifted through the open window, bringing howls of pleasured pain and wails of frustration with the scents of a warming metal cityscape. 

Vortex shook his foot to dispel the numbness, and the minibot slid off. The bot wore the collar of a servitor, the little brass ownership plate glinting in the dim light. Vortex remembered seeing him the night before, chained high in a harness, open for anyone. “How’d you get loose?” he murmured. 

The minibot clambered onto him. “Aeroglide,” he said, his voice drowsy. “She didn’t wanna stand up.” He yawned. “She left me here, said I should make your morning extra special. Some party, huh?” 

Downstairs, someone screamed, and Euphoria’s energy field rippled with the impact of their overload. Some party indeed. Vortex flopped onto his back, grinding his rotor hub into the covers of the large, crumpled recharge pad. “I need a drink. What’s your name?” 

“Fastback, sir.” The minibot perked up, his blue visor brightening. He beeped as Vortex hauled him around to read the tag on his collar. 

“You’re a free-for-all, huh? Get me a can of coolant, some high grade. They’re in the… the thing, over there.” Vortex waved at a small closet in a niche by the window. 

“Can I do anything else for you?” Fastback asked, pausing to stretch out his lithe frame before slinking off the bed. 

“You can hurry up with the energon,” Vortex said, watching Fastback’s glossy red backside. It wasn’t quite the same red as his new playmate, but it was close, and Vortex wondered if First Aid would look so wanton with a few conspicuous scratches. 

Fastback rooted around in the closet. He came back with two small cubes and a large canister. He peeled the lid off the high grade and sniffed the contents. Apparently satisfied with the quality, he clambered onto Vortex’s chest again, his engine purring, and Vortex relaxed to let the minibot pour the contents carefully into his mouth. The high grade definitely hit the spot. 

“Go run me an oil bath,” Vortex said. “And round up some more shareware, I’ll need polishing after.” 

“Of course, sir.” Fastback slid off him again, and bent to pick up the empty cubes, presenting his naked valve. He yelped as Vortex gave it a light slap, then hurried from the room. 

The oil bath was warm and Fastback was warmer. Vortex kept a careful eye on his chronometer; he could lose hours like this, soaked and drowsy while Fastback slowly rode his cord and two of the house’s other free-for-all servitors scrubbed his every seam. 

It was a well-needed release. He didn’t want to be urgent with First Aid. Not yet. Let things build at their own pace; let them explore the bot’s needs and desires, giving him little tastes of what he might want, seeing which ones truly lit him up. 

Vortex wanted to see him lit up. First Aid was so earnest and giving, so concerned with etiquette and clearly very serious about his profession. And his hands… Vortex would gladly worship them. And maybe First Aid would be into that. He’d have to see. 

He arrived at Zone Three slightly early, but First Aid was already there, his paintwork glowing in the soft light of the antechamber. He was reading when Vortex approached, but turned off the datapad as soon as he noticed he was no longer alone. 

He stood, stashing the datapad in his hip. He was maskless and smiling, and Vortex took his hands and kissed the knuckles. First Aid’s smile widened. “Did you have a restful day?” he asked. 

“Sure did,” Vortex responded. “You look gorgeous. Have you been having fun without me?”

“Just chatting,” First Aid replied, seeming perfectly happy that Vortex hadn’t let go of his hands. “I met my neighbour, and we sat a while. It’s so lovely around my apartment.” His energy field extended, warm and welcoming. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

Vortex smiled and responded in kind. “Then we better get started.”

* * *

Where Zone Five had been a maze of hidden pathways and cozy glades, Zone Three was far more open. The vault of the simulated sky was lower, a deep turquoise fading to the palest blue toward the horizon. It complemented the lawns of green and purple moss, and the low banks of ferns and flowering plants, from whose fronds chirped all manner of insects, organic and robotic alike. 

Also unlike Zone Five, Zone Three gave the impression of busyness. People came and went, chatting and laughing. A band played an upbeat tune on a small stage, and more than a few people were dancing. There was a low building close by, another mall perhaps. First Aid could see stalls outside, and the bustle of a busy bar. 

He could also see mechs wandering on all fours or being carried. Many wore mods: long synthetic tails, tendril-like antennae, blunted claws that clicked when they walked. Some had their bared valves stuffed with glittering plugs, or sported jewelled cages around their pressurised cords. He tried not to stare, but the smiles his wandering gaze attracted showed that staring would not be unwelcome. 

Grinning, Vortex slung an arm around his shoulders and steered him towards the mall. “They’re all on show,” he said. “Tell me if you see one you like.”

“On show, as in?”

“Some of them are there to be looked at,” Vortex responded, taking hold of his hand. “Some to be touched, and some because they want to be shared. All we have to do is ask.”

“I’d be happy for you to share me,” First Aid said quietly, that blush creeping back. “Carry me?”

Laughing, Vortex spun Aid around, but instead of sitting him on his hip, he threw him across his shoulder and patted his aft. “Demanding today, aren’t you?”

Aid laughed, gyros spinning as he fought for balance. “Do you want me to be?” 

“I like hearing you laugh,” Vortex said, holding him in place with that hand on his aft. One of his rotors bounced dangerously close to First Aid’s face. “I want you to be yourself. Be demanding, be shy, be whatever you want. Experiment.”

First Aid gave a good solid flare of his energy field, and he stuck out his tongue, but the rotor bounced too quickly for him to lick it. “Where are we going?” he said. 

“For a fitting,” Vortex replied. 

“A fitting for what?”

“You’ll find out.” This came with a teasing ripple of the rotary’s energy field. “It’s something you told me you’d like.”

First Aid hummed a curious note, while his mind began to sort through yesterday’s memories to find out exactly what he’d said he wanted. He couldn’t remember making a request, but Vortex had asked him so many questions.

He didn’t have long to figure it out. Vortex walked him across the park and into one of the shops in the low-rise mall. The first display Aid saw was a stylish arrangement of glittering chains. His spark warmed and he bit his lip to stop from giggling. When Vortex set him on his feet the rotary kissed him softly on the lips - and scrap, didn’t he want to melt into that - and gave him such a wicked grin. 

“Restraints,” he said. “Remember?”

First Aid nodded, smiling wide. “I… I’ve always wanted to try something like this. I just never… I mean I could have ordered something online, and Iacon does have some very upmarket shops of course, but I somehow never actually went in. And I wouldn’t have known what to buy and…” He glanced at the nearest table, then up into Vortex’s bright visor. “You have to help me. What should I get?”

“Whatever you like,” Vortex said, looping an arm around his waist. “And don’t even think about looking at prices. I’m buying.”

“Oh you don’t have to-”

“I want to. You have the best expressions, you know that?”

First Aid laughed. “What do you want to see me in?”

Leaning close, Vortex whispered. “My lap.” 

“Gladly,” First Aid responded, extending his energy field. “But what about this?” He lifted one end of a long, dangling chain. “Or this?” The next was studded with opals, the one after that interlaced with toughened leather. 

“Might I be of assistance, sirs?” A cheerful blue grounder rolled up to them. 

“Actually, I’ve booked a demo and fitting,” Vortex said. 

“Of course,” the grounder replied. “Vortex, am I right? I think we met a few orns back, Zone Seventeen.” She clasped her hands together and gave First Aid a very appreciative look. “My name is Centrix. If you’d both follow me.”

Judging by the vibrancy of her energy field, Centrix wasn’t a drone, and she wasn’t a symbiont either; she must have been one of the members who chose to work in the malls. She hummed a pleasant tune as she led them through a curtained doorway at the rear of the shop, and into a comfortable dimly lit room with plush padded seats. One wall was curtained in a soft blue fabric scattered with reflective glass beads. 

“Please, take a seat.” Centrix rolled up to the curtain, her curved feet on hidden wheels. She pursed her lips at First Aid. “My my, you are quite delicious, aren’t you.”

“Thank you,” First Aid said, suddenly much more aware of his pose and his slightly nervous smile. Vortex flopped into one of the larger chairs, and gave Aid’s fingers a little tug. It was all the encouragement he needed to plant himself in the rotary’s lap. 

“Please make yourselves comfortable,” Centrix told them as Vortex arranged him across his thighs, his aft sinking into the softness of the seat. “Jig will be through soon with refreshments. Now, Vortex has requested we begin with the Deep Desires range. This is a versatile and robust product line, using only the highest quality materials. Each item is available in a variety of finishes and sizes, just ask. Are you ready?”

First Aid wiggled to fit more closely under Vortex’s arm, and nodded. Centrix gave him a promising smile and gestured to the curtains, which drew swiftly aside. On a low stage made of polished granite an attractive cerise racer posed in chains. His hands were secured high above his head, his hips cocked and one knee raised. His frame was buffed to a high shine, matching the gleam of a collar at his throat. 

“Our chains are guaranteed up to forty thousand perceps per square mechanometer,” Centrix said as a pearly white seeker stepped onto the stage. She wore a set of clamps on her wings and a spreader holding open her chest. First Aid tried not to gape at the sight of her spark, the ice-blue light washing over the racer as she made a show of testing the cuffs. 

“I need one of those,” First Aid whispered, and Vortex nuzzled his helm. 

“I need to see you in one of those,” he replied, and the seeker turned gracefully to face them, trailing a finger over the outermost edge of her spark casing. 

“At any time,” Centrix said, “if you’d like to shortlist items to review later, please send me a quick databurst.”

The back of the stage slowly revolved, bringing a new model into view. Another racer, this one was pale blue and white, and wore the happiest smile. He was spreadeagled, shackled at his arms and legs, a spreader bar keeping his knees apart, and a soft band of fabric covering his optics. It was then that First Aid realised the models must also be members. They couldn’t be employees, Euphoria didn’t have any in-play staff. No wonder the racer looked so pleased. 

Accompanying him on the stage was a slim tall rotary, her blades and limbs dripping with slender decorative chains. She paused to kiss the racer, and First Aid thought for a moment they might take it further, but she pulled away, a small electrowhip in her hand, and trailed it across his abdomen. First Aid’s sensor net gave an empathic thrill, and it must have bled into his energy field because Vortex gently revved his engine. 

While she posed Centrix led them through the benefits of each item, the options for padded cuffs and sensor muffling. There was even an option for a spike cuff, which the helifomer obligingly demonstrated on her squirming partner. 

First Aid shuffled, urging Vortex’s arm a little lower, leading him to rest his hand on his waist. The rotary transformed his fingertips to claws and back again, and First Aid wove their fingers together, the feel of those claws on his tyres and thighs so easy to recall. 

A small Insecticon arrived with tiny etched cubes of high grade and coolant, and a small tray of jewel-coloured sweets. He set them down to Vortex’s side, out of First Aid’s reach. 

The models changed again, the cerise racer and the pearly seeker returning to the stage. As they posed and Centrix talked, Vortex toyed with a glass with his free hand, his claws cutting through the condensation. At the next lull he raised the high grade and First Aid nodded. But Vortex didn’t hand it over, instead he held it up in offering. Aid leaned forward, parting his lips, and Vortex tilted the cube to pour the thick, tangy energon over his tongue. A large sip, then another, then Vortex put the cube down and skewered a translucent dark blue sweet on one claw. 

First Aid resisted squirming, and contented himself with holding Vortex’s hand captive. On stage the seeker was using a set of chains to reposition the racer’s limbs, every so often revealing the understated glass spreader seated in his valve. Vortex offered the treat, but withdrew his hand a little when Aid went to bite. Smirking, he began to lick instead, easing the sweet away, lapping the thick sticky gel from Vortex’s claw. 

Judging by the flicker of his energy field, Vortex really liked that.

The models switched again, and First Aid watched while gently sucking on the tip of a claw. There were chains for so many positions, devices to hold a person rigid, and contraptions that let them wriggle and arch. The models were so beautiful, and clearly enjoying themselves. It was surreal, and for a moment First Aid couldn’t quite believe he was there, the focus of all this beautiful attention, all this performance. Then Vortex offered him another sweet and his spark swelled. 

Once they had a shortlist, Centrix brought examples of all the products for him to examine, all hanging on hooks or sitting on glass shelves at the back of the stage. 

“Go on,” Vortex encouraged, and First Aid stood up, wiggling his aft as Vortex followed, hands on his waist. 

“Each of the items is available in our full range of materials and finishes,” Centrix said, as he stepped up onto the stage and reached the touch the first dangling set of chains. 

“I can see you in those,” Vortex whispered, kissing the side of his helm. “They’re very… versatile.”

First Aid giggled and arched against him. “I like the weight,” he said. “And these.” A small shelf supported three different sizes of the glass spreader. “I like these.” 

“This model also comes in an expanding version,” Centrix said, “made of conductive transparent plasglass.”

First Aid’s vents nearly stalled. “I… I really like that.” 

“What else?” Vortex said. 

First Aid ran his fingers through the mesh of tiny linkages dangling from a more ornamental harness. “Help me choose.”

“How about something simple to start with,” Vortex said. “Something secure.” He ran his hand along First Aid’s forearm. “But something that lets you move.”

“Perhaps the padded cuff option?” Centrix suggested. “Might I suggest the keelor leather. It’s strong, supple and soft, and our special treatment makes it impervious to all Cybertronian fluids.” 

“May I… may I try them?” First Aid asked, his vocaliser hitching as Vortex kissed the back of his neck. Centrix snapped her fingers and the shimmering seeker emerged with a brand new set of cuffs. He held out his hands, and she tested them for fit while Vortex held him securely from behind. 

He could have opened up then and there, he was so wet. And the heat of Vortex’s panel against his aft really wasn’t helping. 

With difficulty he kept his own panels shut, and tried to push the charge into his energy field. Vortex made a sound of amused appreciation. “I think those would be perfect,” he said. “And these.” He reached for the heavier set with the adjustable harness.

First Aid didn’t want to think how much Vortex was spending. It was such an extravagance, at once terrifying and deeply flattering. He wasn’t used to people spending on him. With his partners, they usually split the cost of anything they did together. Having Vortex spend so much to make him happy, to make him pretty and accessible and warm, it tilted the balance of power. The thought sent a shiver through him; wasn’t that partly what he was here for? To be in someone else’s thrall? To be chased, and pampered and treated as a toy. To be at someone else’s mercy. 

He could happily be at Vortex’s mercy. He licked his lips, recalling the taste of the sweets, the pressure of that claw. 

Watching Vortex pack the purchases into his subspace, First Aid wanted nothing more than to go somewhere and start trying them out. Centrix must have noticed him fidget, because she gave him another of her appreciative looks. 

“Might I suggest one more item?” she said. “A small ornament, perhaps.”

The way Vortex grinned sent a shiver through First Aid’s whole body. “Something delicate,” he said, running his hands over First Aid’s waist and hips. 

“I know just the thing.” Centrix snapped her fingers, and the blue and white racer sauntered onto the stage. He carried a case, which he opened as he knelt in front of them. Inside was a collection of slender, glittering chains. First Aid leaned in to look, and Vortex stroked the back of his neck.

“Would you like to be my pet?” he whispered. 

First Aid’s vents stalled, coolant rushing in response to his heating frame. He lifted one of the chains, so light its weight hardly registered. 

“You’ll want for nothing,” Vortex continued, his energy field rippling through First Aid’s armour. “I’ll take care of everything for you.”

First Aid nodded, and his voice came breathy and quiet. “Yes… yes, please.” He held up the slender chain; pearlised, it shone with a muted rainbow where the light caught it.

Vortex gently took it from him and draped it around his neck. The pressure was so little, he could barely feel it - until he moved, and its slight weight tingled against the cables of his throat.

The collar - if it could be called a collar - had a small attachment where a lead could be fixed. First Aid fingered the tiny loop, and studied his reflection in a mirror Centrix held for him. 

“Perfect,” Vortex said. 

“Aren’t you the cutest?” Centrix winked at First Aid, and led them back through the shop to the exit. “Come back and see us again soon.”

She gave First Aid another appreciative look as he and Vortex left. It wasn’t the only appreciative look he was getting. It must have been the collar. So small and yet so prominent, it opened him to being looked at, to being admired. The thought was dizzying.

“Where are we going next?” First Aid asked, part of him wishing the collar was larger, heavier, with a lead attached so Vortex could pull him in the right direction. 

But that would mean that Vortex couldn’t rest a hand on the back of his neck, claws lightly caressing his cables. “We’re going somewhere a little quieter,” he said. 

Zone Three was larger than it looked. The park was arranged around low circular buildings surrounded with chairs. Intricate screens made of iron and wood divided paths from open areas, while pots of tall flowering plants softened the angles, and everywhere there was seating in varying degrees of seclusion. Some of the seats were occupied, and First Aid made a mental note of activities he could suggest to Vortex later. Or sooner, depending on what the rotary had in mind. 

Distracted by a glimpse of a flier on his knees between three larger mechs, First Aid didn’t notice anyone behind him until something warm butted against his heel. He looked down into the bright yellow optics of a turbo-fox. No, someone dressed as a turbo-fox. And cleverly dressed at that, his curving frame shrouded in articulated metal plates, flanged to mimic the curling sharp segments of a turbo-fox’s armour. He settled on all fours, his limbs partially transformed in a method that made First Aid want to turn him over and investigate. The turbo-fox’s ears pricked up, and the mech gave First Aid a sharp-toothed smile.

Vortex chuckled. “Looks like you’ve made a friend.”

The turbo-fox pressed forward to bump his head against First Aid’s hand. It was clear what he wanted - or at least First Aid hoped it was clear; it was so odd to communicate like this, to pretend a lack of sapience. Odd, but also fun. Gently First Aid petted the top of the turbo-fox’s head, and was rewarded with a pleased nudge from the mech’s energy field. Encouraged, First Aid expanded the area of petting. The metal was lined with sensors, the ears twitching as he stroked them. The turbo-fox sighed, leaning heavily against First Aid’s leg. 

“Telion, heel!” A sleek femme strode towards them along the path, a lead dangling from her hand. “Bad boy. Come here this instant.” She paused. “Tex?”

“Crossfire?” 

“Tex!” The femme smiled wide. “Look at you. You got that upgrade, how dashing.” She held him at arm’s length for a moment, then leant gracefully in for a slow, luxuriant kiss. First Aid swallowed, and the turbo-fox, Telion, whined. “It’s been forever,” Crossfire said, turning her attention on First Aid. “Oh my, what a lovely pet.”

“Isn’t he just?” Vortex said.

“Is he new?” Crossfire approached, hips swaying. Her slimline frame was ornamented with small wheels and what could have been wings, but could equally have been decoration. “May I?” she said to Vortex. 

‘ _May she?_ ’ Vortex sent by text, and First Aid could not have sent a faster affirmative. “Be my guest,” Vortex said aloud. 

“Hmm…” Crossfire walked slowly around him, her energy field catching at the edges of his own. She tilted up his chin, looked into his optics. At her feet Telion huffed. “Patience,” she warned, running her hand along First Aid’s arm. She gave his shoulder tire a gentle squeeze before tracing the planes of his chest. “Do you like being looked at?” she asked. 

First Aid nodded. 

“You’re very beautiful.” She glanced at Vortex. “What does he have?” 

“Hyperion model three,” Vortex replied. 

Crossfire pursed her lips, her purple optics sparkling. “Would you like to show me?” she asked First Aid. 

He looked to Vortex, his spark spinning. He licked his lips. “May I?” he said softly. 

“Come here,” Vortex said, taking his hand and leading him to a low wide seat. He sat back and patted his knee. “Sit down, put your back to my chest. That’s it.”

A happy shiver coursed through First Aid’s frame as Vortex leaned back a little, pulling Aid with him. He tugged his feet onto the bench, knees bent and thighs well and truly parted. Telion whined again, keeping close to Crossfire’s heel.

She smiled down at First Aid. “What a pretty pet,” she said. “Let’s see you now, open your covers for me.”

For her, and everyone else who happened to walk past. He shivered again, and slowly pulled his covers aside. His spike was fast to pressurise, his valve tingling in the breeze. 

“How lovely,” Crossfire commented, her lilac optics wide. “Have you had him long?”

“Since yesterday,” Vortex answered. He pulled Aid’s thighs a little further apart, tilting his aft to give Crossfire a better look. First Aid bit his lip, his fans whirring fast. 

‘ _May I please lick your nub?_ ’ The query came by text, and First Aid gasped. It was a second before he realised who had sent it. ‘ _If it would please you._ ’ Telion edged forward. ‘ _You glisten so prettily, I would love to taste you._ ’

First Aid’s cord strained and his valve gave an aching pulse. ‘ _Yes… please,_ ’ he sent back, and Crossfire gasped as Telion darted forward, his tongue flicking hot and wet across First Aid’s anterior node. 

Aid groaned, and Vortex laughed. Crossfire grabbed Telion’s collar, pulling him back several paces. “Bad boy!” she said, tapping him on the nose. “Very bad boy.” 

“I don’t know,” Vortex said. “I rather think my pet liked it.”

First Aid nodded. He did like it. He liked it very much. “Please… Let him.”

“Are you sure, little pet?” Crossfire said. “Telion can be very… demanding. And you look so delicate.” She caressed Telion’s ears. “I doubt he’ll want to stop at tasting you.”

“Please?” First Aid licked his lips, his optics locked on Telion’s. The mech gave him a feral grin, frame quivering as he allowed Crossfire to hold him back. 

“I wonder how wide his tongue will feel,” Vortex whispered. “I wonder how deep he can lick inside you.”

First Aid vented deep, hands clenching as he fought to keep his hands by his sides. “ _Please!_ ”

“I think he wants you,” Crossfire said, loosening her grip on Telion’s collar. “Go on then.”

This time Telion approached with a swagger, hips swaying and the glowing tip of his cord just visible as he walked. He flicked his tongue over the end of Aid’s nub, making him gasp, then began to lick around and over it. His tongue was curiously soft, his lips smooth. It felt like the deepest of kisses, each teasing swirl a thrill, each long lick ramping up the charge. 

Crossfire sat beside them, angling herself the better to watch. “He really is very nice,” she said. “Do you think he’s large enough to take Telion’s spike?”

“Do _you_ , my pet?” Vortex asked while Telion growled low against Aid’s valve in pleasure and need. “Could you take him inside you? He’s very wide, and those ridges… You’ll feel every last one of them, he’ll need to get you good and wet.”

He was already good and wet, but First Aid couldn’t line up the words to say so. He bucked in Vortex’s grip, panting as Telion suckled on his node, tongue dancing along the sensor-rich underside. 

Crossfire leaned in to stroke First Aid’s cheek. “That’s it, pretty one, arch your back, show yourself off. You have such a lovely frame. Telion, no fingers now, just your mouth. There’s a good boy.”

First Aid wanted fingers, a spike, the gorgeous glass spreader Vortex had in his subspace. Telion eased back, his energy field flaring sharply, and lapped the swollen sensitised entrance to First Aid’s valve. Aid squirmed, wanting that tongue on his nub, but Telion had other plans. His energy field blazing, he lapped his tongue just inside. Aid groaned, the wet heat spreading, and Telion lapped deeper, coiling his tongue in his search for the tingle of each hidden sensor. 

He couldn’t reach the ceiling node, not unless he had a prehensile mod - and First Aid fervently wished that he did - but his tongue was wide enough to give a little stretch, and flexible enough to make First Aid whine. 

When attention returned to his nub, it made First Aid shudder. He tensed to still himself, focusing on the feel of Telion’s lips and tongue, on the ghostly almost-pressure of his teeth, on the passers-by who paused to watch. On Vortex whose spark seemed to dance beneath him, his energy field a heady buzz of arousal and anticipation. 

When he came, it was spiced with the knowledge that he had let a stranger go down on him in public. That other strangers were watching him, enjoying him, that someone he’d known for barely more than a day had arranged it all. 

Telion suckled on his nub until the final shudders of his overload had passed, and First Aid lay panting. Telion kissed his valve, and looked to Crossfire, his tail swinging. 

“Wait a moment,” Crossfire said, and First Aid realised that she and Vortex must have been talking subvoc between themselves. “Nuh-huh!” She leaned down to grab Telion’s collar before he could jump up. “You’ll get that sweet valve around your spike,” she said. “You just need to wait.”

“Turn around,” Vortex said, releasing First Aid’s thighs. First Aid stretched out his legs, and obligingly turned to face him. He straddled Vortex’s knees, his thighs so far apart he could feel the strain. He knelt up as Vortex pulled him into a lazy kiss. “Did that feel good?” he said, and First Aid nodded. “Do you want that thick, long spike inside you?”

“Oh Primus, yes.”

Vortex toyed with the thin chain collar. “I’d like to link with you,” he said. “I want to feel him pushing into you. Would you like that?”

First Aid nodded again. “Yes, yes please.”

“Crossfire, could you...?”

First Aid glanced back to see that Crossfire was already linked to Telion, a network of cables swaying gently between them. She smirked at him, and stroked his waist over the heated cover of his plug and port array. He drew it back, and she took her time connecting him to Vortex, all the while looking deep into his optics, her hands guided by touch alone. 

Linked to Vortex, First Aid dropped his firewalls and sighed as the interface took hold. 

“You came well, didn’t you?” Vortex said, lightly kissing his lips. He smoothed his hands around First Aid’s waist. “You’re so sensitive. And your valve…” First Aid nodded, pressing his head to Vortex’s shoulder. “Crossfire?”

“Be gentle,” Crossfire said, as Telion got into position behind First Aid. “Go slowly at first.” her vents hitched. “Slowly, I said! Mmmm… Good boy.”

Telion growled, vents hot along First Aid’s back. His spike twitched as it stroked the entrance to his valve. First Aid arched and Telion grunted, frotting across his opening. When he pressed inside for the first time, Aid gasped at the stretch. His cord was wide, but the tip was smooth, and Telion thrust shallow and quick to ease himself inside. 

“Good pet,” Vortex whispered. “Open wide, you can take him. Mmm, that’s it.”

First Aid moaned, then gasped anew as a ridge popped inside him. He tried to relax, but his valve clenched hard. He wished Telion would ram into him, sheathing himself to the hilt and forcing past the tension. But Telion moved slowly, deftly, his cord thrumming as he held still a moment between each new push. 

“So tight,” Crossfire groaned. “And so very warm. You got him nice and wet for us,” she told Telion. “Remember how big you are, just a little while longer, then you can take him nice and hard.”

“He likes the sound of that,” Vortex said. “Look at me, pet.” He fixed Aid’s gaze, his lips curved in a wicked smile. “Mmmmm, those ridges feel so good going in, don’t they? Ah! And coming out. Just one more thrust and you’ll be full.”

Telion gave that thrust and Aid cried out, his valve clenching and rippling. Telion pulled almost all the way out, then pushed back in smooth and fast. First Aid groaned, his gaze still locked with Vortex’s. It was stunningly intimate, to be mounted from behind, staring into the eyes of a lover who could feel everything he was feeling. He licked his lips, then parted them at the press of Vortex’s fingers. Stuffed full, mouth and valve, it was even better. 

When Telion gripped the back of his neck First Aid couldn’t hold on. He came hard, his valve pulsing and clenching, his cord spurting and his energy field blazing. Telion snarled, holding him tighter, thrusting harder, and Vortex groaned beneath him, flooding the interface with charge, ramping him up for another climax. 

When Telion came, First Aid was already on the brink, Vortex with him. The interface glowed, and First Aid slumped, shuddering, the overload lingering in long thrumming waves. 

Telion stayed inside him for a long moment until the pulsing of his cord slowed. Then he withdrew, pausing to kiss the back of First Aid’s neck. 

“Did he bite you?” Crossfire said. “He knows he’s not allowed to bite.”

“He was gentle,” Vortex answered for him. He smiled at First Aid. “How are you feeling?”

“Mmmmm,” First Aid replied, slumping on his chest. “Good. Very good. Thank you.”

“The poor thing looks shattered,” Crossfire said. She leaned back, and Telion flopped across her lap. “Oh Telion, what a mess you’ve made.”

Telion yawned. “Shall I clean it up, mistress?” he asked, and First Aid was surprised to hear him speak. His accent was smooth and cultured with a hint of Iahex; he sounded just like Pharma. 

“What do you think?” Crossfire asked, tapping First Aid’s knee. “Would you like my lovely pet to clean you?”

“I… don’t need to move, do I?” he said. He could feel the mess dripping down his thighs, pooling in the gaps of his armour. The sooner he was cleaned the better, but his frame felt so heavy.

Crossfire chuckled, and Vortex sent a pulse of comfort through the interface. “Just relax,” he said. “We’ll take care of you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Telion cleaned First Aid with gentle care, and without undue use of his tongue. Where necessary Vortex moved him, taking his weight so easily it made him feel small and vulnerable, which revved his engine despite his exhaustion. It was a wonder he didn’t end up with Telion sheathed to the hilt inside him again. Tired as he was, he would happily have opened for it.

When they were finally clean First Aid lay in Vortex’s arms, far drowsier than he wanted to be. Crossfire sat on the bench beside them, Telion sprawled across her lap on his back. She toyed with the seams of his belly until he drifted into recharge. 

First Aid wanted to follow. But he also wanted to enjoy just laying there, sated and warm and happy. Vortex chatted with Crossfire, talk of parties and friends and plans. First Aid tried to focus, but the little sounds of Vortex’s frame were so relaxing. Every so often he felt the flicker of Vortex’s spark, and wished they were still connected. 

He awoke hungry. Vortex was looking at him, lightly stroking the side of his helm.

First Aid drew a long shuddering yawn. “How long was I out?”

“About an hour,” Vortex said. The sky was still blue, the simulated daylight bright with a hint of evening orange. 

“You should have woken me. Have the others gone? I didn’t say thank you.”

“You did say thank you, several times. They had somewhere to be, and you looked like you could use a nap.” He moved First Aid up in his lap so they were facing each other. Aid took the opportunity to kiss him, and was rewarded with a strong, sure embrace, the kiss deep and electric, and overwhelmingly reassuring. And it lasted, the kind of kiss First Aid could happily wake up to for the rest of his life. 

“Did you have fun?” Vortex asked, when the kiss finally came to an end. 

“That… It was amazing,” Aid replied. “I never knew I could… I’d do that again. His cord, Primus…” He looked down, grinning. 

Vortex smirked, and stroked his waist. “You never knew you could what?” 

“Be with people like that,” First Aid replied. “It wasn’t like the art gallery, that was so quick and… naive I suppose… This was amazing. I never thought I could interface that way, with so many people. I… never thought I could take a spike with people watching.” 

When he stopped talking, Vortex waited, creating a silence that begged to be filled. 

“I never thought I… I didn’t know I could enjoy pretending someone isn’t sapient. It’s so odd. And playful. Innocent, in a way. And I’ve never seen that kind of costume before!” First Aid leaned back, freeing his hands to make gestures as he talked. “It’s amazing, the way his arms and legs were transformed and secured inside the leg coverings. How he could move like a turbo-fox even though he doesn’t actually have a beast mode.”

“Is that professional interest?” Vortex laughed. 

“Mostly? I mean, I’m not sure I’d want to be dressed like that. Not completely, although the ears…” First Aid gave a self-consciously shy smile, enjoying the responding curve of Vortex’s lips. “But the way he acted, on the edge of feral.” He looked into Vortex’s visor, close enough to see the shape of his optics. “It was all the better for being connected to you. Did _you_ have fun?”

“Very much,” Vortex replied. He smoothed his hands over First Aid’s hips. “I loved feeling him edge his way inside you. You’re delicious, the way you responded to him, the way he filled you.” His optics roved. “You’re so damn cute right now,” he said. “How’s your equipment?”

“A little used,” First Aid admitted. “Not sore exactly... Satisfied. Definitely satisfied.” He pressed a chaste kiss to Vortex’s lips. “For now,” he added. “And don’t think you can’t… If you want to. Any way you want to.”

“Oh I want to,” Vortex responded. “But we have plenty of time for that.” He laughed as First Aid’s fuel injector made a noise. “You sound hungry, we should fuel up. What do you fancy?

First Aid wriggled and leaned in for another kiss. “You.”

Vortex laughed. “Food first.”

* * *

Vortex chose a cafe in the heart of Zone Three, where the energon was served in ice-cold jugs, with a tray of multi coloured cubes made of frozen flavoured coolant. More refreshing than the gels they’d been served in the shop, the cubes still made excellent morsels for First Aid to lap delicately from Vortex’s claws. 

The energon was bubbly, refreshing, and not too potent. First Aid drank deep, half watching the action at the other tables. To his left a horned minibot knelt up on his partner’s lap, licking a thick and sticky form of energon from her hood. Beyond them a dashing orange grounder luxuriated on a table while his leashed and collared partners took turns pushing rounded frozen treats into his valve and slurping up the melt. 

“Still satisfied?” Vortex asked, offering him another cube. 

After swallowing, Aid let his thighs part slightly, curving his back. “Mostly,” he said, watching Vortex toss a treat into his own mouth and listening for the crunch. “You haven’t told me what’s under your panels.”

“The Decadence,” Vortex said, laying a frozen treat on First Aid’s tongue. “With customisations.”

“Mmm, what customisations?”

“Most of them,” Vortex replied. “I might let you play later.”

“You might?” 

“We’ll see. Are you full?”

First Aid shook his head. “May I have some more coolant, please?”

“You can have whatever you like.”

Whatever he liked ended up being another tray of coolant cubes, and a small glass of mid grade, which they shared. He also demanded a kiss, then another, then more of the same when that just wasn’t enough. He didn’t remain long in his own chair, Vortex’s lap was far more comfortable. 

The sky darkened to evening, a trio of moons rising to cast a soft white light. First Aid sighed in Vortex’s arms, and toyed with the energy field at the edge of a rotor. 

“Tired?” Vortex asked.

“Contented,” First Aid responded. “Relaxed. Did you plan for us to meet Crossfire?”

Vortex shook his head. “It was a happy accident. Although…” He smirked, catching First Aid’s eye. “I _would_ like to plan something for you.”

“Oooh, what kind of thing?”

“I’d like to take you to Zone Six later tonight. We could explore those fantasies you were telling me about.”

First Aid’s vents hitched, his spark whirling. “Zone Six, that’s… You could…” His optics brightened. 

Vortex stroked his back. “I’d like to try a few things, just you and me… at first.”

“At first?”

“I’d like to invite a couple of friends,” Vortex said. “Whether they watch or take part… we’ll see. But if they’re going to be there, we need to arrange it now.”

First Aid nodded. Zone Six allowed all kinds of play, but only between pre-agreed groups. By the rules of the zone others could watch, but they couldn’t join in. “Will I meet them beforehand?” he said. 

“Do you want to?”

He thought a moment, and went with the pulsing in his valve. “I like the thrill of the unknown,” he said. “I… I think I like interfacing with strangers.”

“Mmm, I did get that impression.”

“I liked it when you showed me to Crossfire.” He snuggled close, laying his head on Vortex’s shoulder. “I still can’t quite believe I did that.”

“You’re more daring than you thought.”

First Aid laughed. “I got carried away. I mean, I _want_ to get carried away. I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t.” 

A pleased note appeared in Vortex’s energy field. “You’re comfortable getting carried away?”

“Very,” First Aid replied. “Literally and figuratively.” He squirmed, sitting himself upright on Vortex’s lap again so he could see the other’s expression. “I mean, it’s exciting and a little scary, but in a good way.” He looked up at the simulated sky where scattered stars glimmered and the moons were surpassed in brightness for a long moment by the passage of a comet, its tail spilling sparks. “And beautiful,” he said. “It’s all so beautiful.” 

“I think she did that for you,” Vortex said. 

First Aid grinned, keeping watch on the sky. The lights danced as they fell, exploding like fireworks. He made a mental note to send a thank-you to Euphoria, not just for the light show - which may or may not have really been for him - but for everything. When the final shooting star descended, he turned his attention back to Vortex. “What do you hope to get from tonight?” he asked. 

“What a thoughtful question,” Vortex responded. He played with First Aid’s collar, hooking a finger under the chain. “I want to chase you,” he whispered. “Do you want to be chased?”

First Aid shivered. “Very much.”

“Mmmm, good. I want the thrill of the chase. I want to hear your engine whine, I want to chase you until until your engine runs hot and you make a wrong turn. I want to feel it in your energy field, when you know you can’t run any more.”

“What next?”

“I want to back you up against a nice solid wall,” Vortex replied, lowering his voice yet further, making First Aid strain to hear. “Somewhere I can tie your hands high and take my time having you in every possible way.”

First Aid ground against him. “That’s really not helping me wait.”

“Well you’re going to have to,” Vortex continued quietly. “I want the rush of the chase, and the thrill of the catch. I want to explore you and enjoy you, and discover everything that makes your hot little engine rev.”

“I… think you’ve already hit on a few things,” First Aid said. He leaned in for another kiss, then sat back and traced his fingertips down the contours of Vortex’s face. “You like to be in control?” he said. 

“Most of the time,” Vortex answered. 

“You’re happy to take the lead with me? All the time?”

“Perfectly. Unless you choose otherwise.”

First Aid traced Vortex’s lips, feeling out the smoothness of the living metal, the microscopic dips where his nanites had healed old wounds. “I want to make you as happy as you’re making me,” he said, the heat rising again to his cheeks. “I… I have a confession to make.”

Vortex kissed his fingertips. “Hmm?”

“Last night, when I got back to my room. I… I thought of you as I… I…” First Aid let the air from his vents in a huff. “How is this so hard to say?”

“Try again,” Vortex said, his lips curving in a wicked smirk. 

“I… brought myself off thinking of you.”

Vortex shrugged. “That was far too clean, try again.”

First Aid vented deep. “You got me so worked up I had to frag myself with my toy before I could sleep. All I could think of was you.”

That smirk widened. “That’s better. Was I gentle?”

“Not… entirely.” First Aid let his energy field flare, discharging a burst of his pent-up tension. “I think I need some more coolant.”

Vortex called for more of the flavoured iced treats, and spent a long while gradually lowering First Aid’s temperature. It didn’t dull the edge of his excitement, but the coolant filled his reserves and chilled his tongue, and made him feel as though he could drive from Euphoria to Polyhex and back. 

“Are you ready?” Vortex said, as the brightest of the moons reached its apex and the telling sounds of the park at night drifted through the peaceful air.

“Now?” First Aid straightened in Vortex’s lap. “It’s time?”

Vortex kissed him, deep and long. “It’s time.”

* * *

The approach to Zone Six was a maze - Vortex explained as they passed through the Out of Play Areas for Zones Three and Five. A labyrinth of Euphoria's design, it reconfigured itself for each new occupant, creating a separate path for each member tailored to the scene they planned and the role they wanted to play. As planner, Vortex had sent the relevant information to Euphoria earlier that evening, telling her who and how and when, and a dozen other little details he hinted at, but did not reveal to First Aid.

For his part First Aid could not stop grinning. In the grip of nervous excitement, he also could not keep his energy field to himself. His spark spun and his tank churned, and everything seemed so immediate and sharp, as though he could take in every detail and process it all.

He couldn't, but he did manage to savour the lavish murals of Zone Three's Out of Play Area, and the gorgeous mosaics which wrapped the barrel-vaulted tunnels from floor to ceiling in the Out of Play Area for Zone Five. He didn't catch all the details, but there was a certain xenophiliac flavour to the curvilinear designs.

The decor changed again as they approached Zone Six. The lighting softened, and strips of biolights glimmered to delineate the extent of the path. The walls were hung with textiles, thick and heavy in patterns that brought to mind the complexity of a transformation cog. The corridor was not straight, but meandered and branched at every turn, and their way was picked out in pulsing white lights a few paces before their feet. First Aid spotted quiet rooms and bodycare suites, and everywhere pairs and groups of Cybertronians following paths of their own.

"This is it," Vortex said, bringing First Aid's hand to his lips as they paused in front of a well marked door. "You go in first. I'll follow in a few minutes, OK?"

First Aid nodded, pressing forward for a kiss. "How will I know where I'm meant to go?"

"Euphoria will lead you," Vortex said. He gave Aid another kiss, then released his hand. "Remember code zero," he said. "If anything feels at all wrong to you, use it."

"Of course." First Aid nodded again. "All right." He drew air through his filters, deep and long. "We're really doing this," he said. "OK. I'm ready. Are you ready?"

"Always," Vortex said, and opened the door for him.

The maze was dark, and when the door slid shut behind him it took First Aid a moment to recalibrate his optics. After a few seconds the blocky grey of the walls resolved against the deeper black of another doorway, and a low red light pulsed just ahead. First Aid followed, his giddiness dissolving, and a kind of peace descending. The ceiling was low, the walls close enough he could span the corridor with his arms if he chose. The only sounds were his feet and the constant background noises of his body.

It was so clever: the silence, the closeness, the way the maze made him focus on his own being, the way it made him wonder where he was going, uncertain as to what he would find around each new corner. It created a sense of separation, giving him distance between his regular everyday self and the fantasy persona he wished to wear for just a little while.

He thought back to his daydreams, and how just one night with Vortex had changed the composition of his fantasies.

The way in was long, down winding ramps and through rooms that seemed to shift around him.

When he emerged, it was into the backstreets of Iacon. First Aid gaped, glancing back at the door to the maze. It was still there, unmarked but resonant with the signalling shift in Euphoria's energy field. He took a few steps, reaching out to the wall beside him. Living metal, it thrummed with Euphoria's vital force, but in every other aspect it was the back of the spare parts shop on Xaaron Avenue.

First Aid walked around it, running his hand over the wall. A light haze blurred the edges of the buildings, streetlights serving only to deepen the shadows of every recessed doorway. A few of those shadows moved, and First Aid shivered. Were Vortex's friends waiting for him already?

He rounded the corner, and headed out along the avenue, between parallel rows of sculptures topped with faintly glowing crystals. The haze was a fog, misting his optics and beading on his armour.

A roar got up in the distance, a revving of engines. First Aid walked faster, unable to stop himself from grinning at the thought of some other happy groundframe being chased to submission, the prey of larger, bulkier partners.

He swallowed, and glanced back. Had Vortex entered play? He could always ask, his comms were online and in perfect working order, but he didn't want to know. He wanted to be chased and caught, and scrap he could just feel those claws on his paintwork, easing down his seams.

A clang made him jump, but it was away to his left. It was followed by low laughter, then the yelp of someone enjoying their own time in Euphoria's reconstructed cityscape. Savouring a sympathetic surge of charge, First Aid turned off Xaaron Avenue into the network of narrow streets around the Peacekeeper Barracks.

It was his go-to location for imagined interface. He didn't know why, it wasn't like he'd ever met any of his partners there. He'd been to the real one often enough, for seminars on conflict resolution and to give training on advanced surgical techniques, but he'd never interfaced there. Primus forbid, the idea was... Well, the idea was incredibly attractive, but only in the confines of his own mind. So many large, chunky frames all living so close, all so powerful and big and commanding. In real life it would have been incredibly unprofessional.

Good job this wasn't real life.

"Hey there, cutie, whatcha doing?"

First Aid spun around, a thrill kicking through his spark.

"Don't be shy now." Vortex advanced on him, fog-wreathed through the gloom. First Aid almost gave in then and there, but remembered himself and took a step backwards. Vortex's visor brightened. "Aren't you just the tastiest little thing."

First Aid bit his lip, and staggered back. Scrap, the fog made Vortex loom. The rotary snicked his claws, the sound going straight to First Aid's interface array.

"How wide can you stretch those smooth white thighs?" Vortex grabbed for his hand, but First Aid snatched it out of the way. "Shall we find out? I'll take you somewhere nice and quiet, just the two of us."

With his cord thudding against the inside of its cover, First Aid continued to back away.

"I'll make you open up," Vortex whispered, and it came with a growl of his engine that made First Aid weak at the knees. "I'll show you a good time, get your hot little valve wrapped around me. I bet you're tight, little grounder like you." He made another feint for First Aid's arm. "Are you?"

First Aid darted into the road. He transformed and gunned his engine, his spike aching and his spark soaring. Behind him Vortex also transformed, taking flight in a storm of moving parts that First Aid could happily have stayed to watch. But no, he was being chased. Being chased to be caught and fragged, and fragged again with any luck.

He took the first left, then left again, circling around, coming back to that network of narrower streets near the barracks. Vortex followed, low and loud, whipping up the fog and the air, battering Aid with the wash from his rotors.

First Aid accelerated hard, taking a corner as wildly as he dared, far faster than he ever would on the real streets of Iacon. The driving was a thrill in itself, his tyres screeching on each corner, his engine heating until the fog hissed on contact with his hood.

He drove down the side streets, buildings rising high on either side, lights dimmer here, the shadows deeper. Vortex hardly slowed, but First Aid was faster here, more agile in the narrow lanes. He pulled a sudden U-turn, and sped down a side street. Vortex wanted the thrill of the chase, and by Primus he was going to give it to him. 

For a moment he thought he might have broken free, but Vortex spun, a wild dance that made First Aid’s innards thrill. The way he threw around his alt mode, the way he came so close, so very close to the walls, but never so much as scraped them, it was stunning. First Aid sped up, rounding another corner, gaining the tiniest fraction of distance. He wanted to see that again. But the gates to the barracks loomed, and he wanted other things so very very much, and so he transformed to sprint for the entrance.

Behind him the frantic thrum of rotors ceased. First Aid glanced back long enough to see Vortex coalesce from the whirling storm of parts, and land in a fighting stance on the hard steel road. He stood, shaking the moisture from his blades, and extended his claws.

First Aid thumped on the guard room window, and tried to tug the gate open. The guard room was empty, and the larger gate didn't budge, but a smaller door cut into it creaked open just a little. First Aid darted through, Vortex hot on his heels. He sprinted for the nearest building, wanting to laugh out loud. It was giddy and exhilarating, and he wanted Vortex to catch him. But he also wanted to run and run, and keep himself free for as long as he possibly could.

There was a door in the recess between two windowless wings. First Aid ran for it, fingers out to press the pad for access.

He fell against the door, venting hard, and slapped his hand over the access panel. It didn't budge. He tried again, summoning the mock-panic and trying to immerse himself in the delightful edge of fear.

Vortex slammed a palm on the door to the side of his head, and leaned close. "Where ever do you think you're going?"

First Aid shuddered. "I... I'm..."

"You're gonna show me a good time, that's what you're gonna do," Vortex said, and lunged. This time First Aid had nowhere to go. Vortex grabbed his left arm and swung him around, easily taking hold of his right. First Aid whimpered as Vortex slid the cuffs over his hands and tightened them around his wrists. The keelor leather was as soft as he remembered, a very pleasant contrast to the sharpness of Vortex's claws as he traced them over First Aid's aft.

"You want inside?" he said. "OK, we can go inside."

First Aid thought Vortex would lift him, but he merely nudged him along, holding his arms very firmly behind him.

The building was an accommodation block, lighted for night. The reception desk was closed, and the only sign of life was a construction frame who smirked when she saw them, before slinking off in another direction.

"Good little bot," Vortex cooed, steering Aid into a corridor. "Frag, your tyres are still warm. I bet you're just as warm inside. This way." They made a sharp left, through a swinging door into a communal shower. Vortex moved First Aid's arms in front of him and then up, latching the cuffs together and looping the short length of chain between them over a hook high in the shower wall. First Aid squirmed, his feet only just on the ground.

"Now now," Vortex said, leaning over him, one hand on the wall. "No kicking or I'll have to strap them down as well. Do you want me to tie down your legs?"

First Aid squirmed some more. Vortex grabbed his chin.

"I said, do you want me to tie down your legs? I can spread you open over one of those low benches over there. Do you want that? They’ll keep your thighs nice and wide. You won't need to worry about moving then."

"Don't!" First Aid twisted away, melting inside as their energy fields meshed for a brief and wonderful moment.

"Don't what?" Vortex asked. His mask slid back, that predatory grin firmly in place.

_Don’t stop!_ he thought and struggled to keep the smile from his face. "Don't hurt me! Please!"

Vortex squeezed a hip tyre. "Now why would I want to hurt you?" He smoothed his hands over First Aid's frame, his claws dragging. "You're gonna make me feel so good. I've got some pressure going just touching you. You're so glossy. Open your valve cover."

Coolant rushed, and First Aid's legs were reduced to rubber. He pressed his knees together, wishing fervently for Vortex to force them apart.

"Come on now." Vortex stroked the length of First Aid's arms, flaring his energy field over his hands and wrists, then down to his elbows, following the line of sensors just inside his transformation seams to his underarms. "Do you feel vulnerable?" he whispered. "Do you feel like I could just break you... You need to open your hot little valve cover. Be a good bot. Good bots don't get hurt."

First Aid whimpered, writhing with his weight on his shackled wrists. He shivered as Vortex continued to touch him, running his hands over First Aid's chest and waist, over his aft, his back, his thighs. He slid his fingers between First Aid's legs and pressed on the heat of his cover.

"Take it off now," Vortex said softly. "Just draw it back and let me have some fun with you."

First Aid shook his head, and Vortex pressed harder.

"You don't want it to break now, do you?" The pressure increased. "Be a good little bot for me and open up."

First Aid's spike cover came free, his cord jutting into the air. Vortex thumbed it, and laughed, quiet and threatening.

"Nearly there, just one more... Unless you want me to use your mouth before I take your cover off for good?"

Shuddering, First Aid couldn’t hold on any longer. The cover sprang back, and he yelped at the touch of a smooth curving claw-back to his swollen anterior node. Vortex circled for a long moment, all the while flickering little kisses of his energy field along Aid's exposed sides.

"You're so small down there," Vortex said, pushing a newly-blunt fingertip past the clenching rim of First Aid's valve. "Look at your optics flicker when I put something inside you. I think you like it. I think your frame likes it, you're so nice and wet." He pushed the finger deep, flaring his energy field in a localised burst that made First Aid gasp. "Did you like that? Do you want me to do it again?"

First Aid bucked, moaning as Vortex carried out his threat. A third time and his cooling fans ratcheted up to maximum. When Vortex pulled out he had to bite his lip to stop from groaning in disappointment. Instead, he managed to clench his thighs together, twisting his hips to cover himself. 

“So you _do_ want to be strapped down?” Vortex slapped his aft, the mild sting spreading ripples through his sensor net. “You think that would be easier?” He smoothed both hands up First Aid’s sides, twisting him further, claws raking a path over his paint, causing whirlpools of disturbance in his sensor net. Vortex spun him slowly around, turning his face to the wall. The chain twisted, putting pressure on First Aid’s wrists. He squirmed as a hand slid between his thighs, taking advantage of the curve of his armour to stroke his opening. No matter how tightly he pressed his legs together, there was no covering himself. 

Vortex vented on his audial, whispered hot and close, “What’s that? You _don’t_ want me to make this easy?” He flared his energy field from his fingers, and Aid strained against the cuffs, the chains, trying to bring his feet up, but he couldn’t, his hands had no purchase, and all his weight rested on his toes. Venting hard, he focused on the press of Vortex’s energy field, the heat of his frame. He focused on the edge of play-fear, on the thrill of being caught and taken. 

Fingers wriggled; the hand pushed hard against Aid’s thighs, levering them apart. First Aid’s hips ached with the effort of keeping his legs together. He stumbled, catching his weight with his wrists, arcing into the new pressure down his arms and sides. 

Vortex slammed a knee between his legs, and grabbed his aft. The pressure of fingers was gone, replaced by the odd and pleasantly vulnerable feeling of Vortex’s knee pressed against his bare hardware. First Aid’s cord rubbed against the tiled wall, leaving a streak of silvery fluid. He could feel the wetness seep from his valve, the hollow need bringing on an ache that bordered on painful. 

When Vortex looped an arm around Aid’s waist soe couldn’t even squirm. He tensed, feeling himself pulled back, his arms outstretched, his torso bent, his helm against the wall. His feet left the floor, and a new pressure wrapped around his knee as Vortex lifted his right leg, denying him any way to pull his thighs back together. “So quiet,” Vortex whispered. “And _so_ worked up. I can hear your vents cycling, you’re all hot inside.” A fresh warmth pressed between his legs, and it could only have been Vortex’s cord. First Aid tensed further, vents stilling as he revelled in the anticipation. But when the cord finally touched him, it merely smoothed across the mouth of his valve, frotting in his fluids and catching only lightly against his nub. He tried to arch in Vortex’s grip, to increase the pressure as the rotary rolled his hips and brought the cord over him again. 

He whined, it was futile. Vortex was too large, too strong. He couldn’t angle his hips or tilt his aft, could do nothing more than feel the warmth of that slick sliding, imagining that bulk and width inside himself. 

In his fantasies, his companions had been faster to take him. They hadn’t checked he was ready, they hadn’t teased his throbbing nub or worked their way over his aching port until his fluids heated so much they ran in rivulets down the insides of his thighs. In his fantasies, it hadn’t been anywhere near as good as this. 

Vortex hauled his leg higher, his cord smooth as it moved. Aid’s port clenched, his walls contracting as the cord pressed harder against him, the tip dipping over the entrance of his valve, then passing by without pushing inside. It continued for a long while, pressing in just enough to register, but without penetrating. First Aid’s nub quickened, his sensors lighting. It wasn’t enough to propel him to overload, but it was enough - with the added stimulus from his arms and wrists, his waist and his leg - to build his arousal to fever pitch. 

Engine growling, Vortex held him tight and close. “No more struggling,” he hissed, the tip of his cord again reaching the dip at the mouth of First Aid’s valve. “There’s a good bot. Good little bot. Frag, you’re warm.” He gave a minute roll of his hips, enough to push against Aid’s entrance. His valve relaxed by reflex, pulsing and welcoming, and hot scrap First Aid needed that inside him. 

“Please!” he croaked, voice clouded with white noise. “Please!”

“Oh that’s it,” Vortex sighed. “Beg for it, you know you want it.”

Of course he wanted it, but he was meant to be in character, reluctant, forced. “Don’t hurt me!” he cried, clenching hard against the incremental push of the cord. 

Vortex tugged him down. “So tight, like you’ve never been touched. But you know what you need, don’t you? You know you need a good hard pounding.” He withdrew a little, then thrust up, and Aid howled as he was filled. “Such a hot little fragtoy,” he snarled, rolling his hips and catching every single sensor Aid thought he had. “I knew you’d feel this good. Can tell just by looking at you.” He picked up the pace, taking his pleasure, and hot scrap it felt good to be fucked and jolted and held in place so hard and firm. So amazing, to be taken like in his fantasies, to be tied up and used. Vortex pressed him hard to the wall, cupping his cord in his hand as he thrust with a quick, sure rhythm. 

“I bet you like that,” he growled. “Ugh, you squeeze me just right, fucking hot little valve. I bet you were built for this. I bet you wish you were built for this. Am I right? Frag, you feel so damn good.” 

First Aid grinned into the wall, each thrust thrilling through him, the words reverberating through his circuits, his spark, an echo of his dream-fantasies. He came with a grunt, and a rush of satisfaction that reverted to arousal with each fresh slide of Vortex’s cord. Heaving for air, all he could hear was the roar of coolant, the clang of their frames. All he could feel was how exposed were his sides, how hot his valve. Vortex laughed softly against the back of his neck, and forced himself in deeper. And held himself there, his cord pulsing, his vents heaving. He murmured in pleasure, giving a few final, deep thrusts before pulling slowly out. 

And pushing back in. But it was cold and hard, and not in the way of a pressurised cord. In the way of a toy, smooth and curved, with a thick shaft, a bulbous end and a flat flanged base. Aid groaned as Vortex pushed the toy deeper, its cool width at once soothing and stimulating. Once past his opening the head seemed to expand, and even when Vortex let go and gravity took its toll it was clear the toy was not about to slip out. 

First Aid squirmed as Vortex let his feet again touch the ground. He yelped as he was pressed to the shower wall.

“I like you full,” Vortex said. “You keep that inside. Understand?” When First Aid only wriggled, Vortex slapped his aft. “ _Understand?_ ”

Aid nodded. 

“I can’t hear you.”

“I understand!”

“There’s a good bot. Now, let’s take a look at you.” Vortex slid his hands along Aid’s arms to the cuffs and spun him slowly around, unkinking the chain. “Heh, how about a little kiss now, hmm?”

First Aid couldn’t hold character any longer. He melted into the kiss, long and slow, feeling the toy in his valve, the skitter of Vortex’s claws over his armour. He wanted to say thank you, to open a comm, to do something more than flare his energy field in half-satiated gratitude. Vortex’s field flared back, a world of promise, and First Aid yelped as his feet left the ground. He swung, suspended by his arms, as Vortex hooked Aid’s thighs over his shoulders and transferred his kiss to First Aid’s nub. 

Aid’s valve clenched, his nub crawling with charge. A liquid heat followed the trail of Vortex’s tongue, speared up inside him, to his plug and port array, to his spark. He felt like he was falling, suspended, precarious. He felt like he was slipping, he wanted to transform. Vortex held his hips, keeping his valve exactly where he wanted it. He suckled and licked, humming his own contentment as he played. 

And surely it was play for him. He was enjoying himself, tasting, raising the charge. Every so often he licked around the base of the toy, as though to remind First Aid exactly what was inside him and who had put it there. Like he needed reminding. He groaned and arched, and luxuriated in the attention. 

He almost missed the opening of the outer door. The laughter, however, he couldn’t miss. 

“What _have_ we got here?” someone asked. A large someone, broad and heavy, a peacekeeper build. First Aid shivered. 

“Is that shareware?” a second voice spoke. Another frame emerged from behind the first, and slowly closed the door. 

“Sure is,” Vortex replied. “A tasty piece of shareware. Got a hot little port on him.”

“Heh, looks like you already claimed that one,” the first said. He came closer, and First Aid’s optics widened. He was taller than Vortex, broader too with a chest that went on for miles, and immense bulky arms. He had at least sixteen wheels, and his dark green paint was scuffed and dusty. 

“Just the once,” Vortex said. “And only on smooth. You know what bots like this are like. They need a good warming up before they can take anything with ridges.” 

First Aid whimpered. 

“Ain’t that the truth,” the second newcomer came around the mech First Aid thought of as Green. He was a rotary, but a vastly different frame type to Vortex. His blades fanned from mounts on his shoulders, and his chest was translucent toughened glass. Another Peacekeeper, and one modded for deployment on alien worlds. First Aid thought his spark might explode. 

“He’s well made,” Green said, clapping Vortex on the arm as he stepped up for a closer look. First Aid couldn’t help but stare, the mech was huge. “Look at his little tires.” He brushed his fingers over one on First Aid’s hip, the tickle of his EM field making Aid flinch. “Ha! Got a cute spike too. Looks like he came all over himself.”

Rotors closed in on the other side. “I’d ride that,” he commented, and ducked down, getting behind First Aid. “I’d spike that too,” he said, his voice deliciously close. He began to stroke First Aid’s sides, running his hands over his paint, through the little spatters of fluid. “I wanna see this one squirm.”

Vortex grinned, pausing to give a final lick before slowly lowering First Aid’s legs. His feet did not reach the ground. Rotors was in the way, the smooth expanse of his chest warm against First Aid’s back, the angles of his hips a making Aid’s own hips jut. 

“Be my guest,” Vortex said, licking his lips as he moved to First Aid’s side. 

Green grinned, his huge engine rumbling. He caught Aid’s gaze and held it as he uncoupled the armour over his codpiece, and drew the cover aside. “Hey there, lil sharebot,” he said, lips pursed, his fingers on the tip of his spike as it began to extend. “Are you frightened?” He rubbed his cord, grunting as it pressurised. “You don’t gotta be scared, I’ll be gentle.”

“Big, isn’t it?” Rotors whispered. “You’re gonna feel that going in.”

He could feel the toy sliding out, Vortex reaching around to tug it slowly free. The width found some resistance at his rim, and he arched in Rotors’ grip. 

“Pretty little thing, ain’t he?” Green commented. “You wanna lift him for me?”

Rotors laughed, and First Aid found himself hauled up, legs dangling. Keeping firmly behind him, Rotors held him tight, arms under his knees, putting his bared equipment at just the right height for Green’s spike. Vortex did something to the chains, hauling his wrists higher, removing the slack. Green closed in, running his hands along First Aid’s thighs, brushing the edge of his valve. What glimpses First Aid got of the mech’s cord were at once promising and mildly frightening. It was magnificent: wide and blunt, the head was smooth, and the shaft was lined with rows of sensors in bumps that looked shallow, but that First Aid knew would feel immense on something with that much girth. 

“OK lil sharebot, here it comes.” Green rubbed the tip over First Aid’s valve, and scrap it felt big. Big and hot, with a crackling energy field that triggered the sensors all around his rim. “Ugh, you’re a tight little thing. Gotta get the angle just right… Oh yeah, that’s it. Can you feel that?”

First Aid whined. The cord was massive, the head edging into him, straining the entrance and making him squirm and kick. Too slow, it was far too slow. He wanted that inside him, but more than that he wanted Green to force it inside him, to grab his hips and shove, and by some miracle - some work of Vortex in a secret conversation while First Aid had sat in his lap licking energon from his lips - that’s exactly what Green did. 

First Aid wailed, his charge ramping, his valve so stuffed it couldn’t even clench. His cord strained, and Vortex grinned to see it, to feel the hot flare of his energy field. 

“Shock to the system?” Rotors snickered. “Do you wanna see it go in?” He flipped the cover on Aid’s plug and port array, snapping an input cable into place. Vortex’s input cable, Aid realised, struggling to find the command to accept the feed while Green dragged slowly back only to thrust forcefully inside, shaking him to the core. 

“Good bot,” Green said, his voice slightly strained. “Ugh yeah, good bot. That’s it, nice and tight.” The feed synched and First Aid could see his valve, the biolights dancing, a frantic pattern of red and white covered all over with silver and the translucent blue of his intimate lubricants. Watching the cord push into him was fantastic. Slick with the evidence of Aid’s arousal and the remnants of his interface with Vortex, it was easy for Green to force a slow, gentle pace. Tortuously gentle. Evilly gentle, each sensor bump feeling mountainous, the slight flange at the base of the tip like a cliff.

Green took his time, taking his pleasure while Vortex calmly watched and Rotors whispered in First Aid’s audial. “He likes it when a bot’s already been fucked. Nice and messy, nice and wide for him. Do you like being held open like that? Huh? You like your thighs spread wide. Anyone could come in right now, you know that? Anyone could come and see you like this, dirty little shareware all stiff and panting, taking that huge spike right up inside you.” Rotors revved his engine. “You think they’d wanna fuck you too?”

“How could they resist?” Vortex commented, leaning over to lick the fluid leaking from the tip of First Aid’s cord. 

“I couldn’t,” Rotors said. “Frag, I wanna be inside you. Wanna take your hot little mouth. See your lips tight around me. I could just go for that.”

“You wanna?” Green huffed. “Tex, get the chains.” Green didn’t withdraw as they moved him. Instead he supported First Aid’s legs - held up and apart as they could never have wrapped around his hips, and moved him impaled and squirming. Vortex took the chain, the cable between them swaying, and First Aid caught a glimpse of his straining valve, of Rotors’ smug expression, of the cuffs untethered now as Vortex lowered Aid’s torso into position, suspended in mid-air between Green and Rotors. The cord stayed in, the angle shifting, pressing on the front of his valve and the urgent heat of his ceiling node. Rotors took hold of Aid’s shoulders as Vortex drew his arms down, fastening his wrists together at the small of his back. 

“Let’s be having you,” Rotors said, as First Aid’s back was made to arch and his chin to tilt. Rotors’ cord was slimmer, more heavily ridged, and decorated in a swirling pattern of iridescent lights. It was also at full pressure, and so hot First Aid could feel the radiant warmth on his face. “Open wide.”

“Come on now,” Vortex encouraged, as First Aid bit his lip and tried to feel every bit the used, innocent victim. “Be a good bot.” 

“I got this,” Green said, hands clamped around First Aid hips. He pulled back and slammed forward, making First Aid gasp. Rotors took full advantage, and the upswell of indignance at the intrusion was a pleasant counterpoint to the renewed slower thrusting. 

It was not an easy angle, First Aid had little control as the two large, powerful frames took his mouth and valve. His valve was stretched, the pressure on his ceiling node a relentless sliding force. The shaft was hard against his lips, the flanges setting off the sensors on his tongue and the inside of his mouth. And all the while Vortex streamed the view from his own optics, taking in every plane and curve of First Aid’s body, every intrusion and groping touch. 

“Suck on it,” Rotors demanded. “Get your tongue moving. Just like that… Primus!” He cradled First Aid’s head, tilting it back as far as it would go. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna… Ugh yeah.” The crackle of dispersed charge was dizzying, the flood of fluid only adding to the feeling of being used, objectified. First Aid sputtered, and Rotors held him still, Green pausing. He swallowed around the cord, the action imperfect, silver dribbling from his lips. 

Rotors withdrew, and Aid lay panting, suspended between them. Green laughed, his cord twitching. “He looks tired,” he said. “We should lay him down.”

Grinning, Vortex uncoupled the cuffs. They took First Aid to one of the long, low benches, Green managing by sheer dint of his size to stay embedded firmly in First Aid’s valve. Green got to his knees, and Aid felt the length of the bench settle against his back. Vortex fastened his cuffs beneath the bench, his arms splaying awkwardly, emphasising the vulnerability of his chest and sides. 

“Is that better?” Rotors cooed, kneeling beside him and bending to lick the spill from his cheek. “I’m gonna take your spike now. It’s just too pretty to leave alone.” He rose again, his blades fanning and his frame looking all the more impressive from below. Straddling the bench, he lowered his valve directly onto First Aid’s cord. 

First Aid sighed. He didn’t care that he was smiling, he didn’t care that it didn’t fit with the scene, he couldn’t stop his energy field from radiating aroused satisfaction. All that mattered was the heat around his cord, the pulsing girth inside him, Vortex’s intense attention. 

Green laughed and began again to thrust, while Rotors groaned and made his valve walls undulate, pulling up in a way that had to stimulate his ceiling node, then grinding down to fill himself as full as he possibly could. 

First Aid wondered if Vortex would want his mouth now, but the rotary seemed content to watch. And Aid was certainly content to lie there, his wide-spread legs in Green’s sure grip, his hardware massaged inside and out. Green took his time, careful and slow at first, then faster as Rotors’ vents grew ragged, his little exhortations of “Primus!” and “Frag!” more frequent. The friction was delightful, the subjugation an ongoing thrill that caught at his spark and made him tense and shiver. He pulled against his cuffs just to feel how securely he was bound, and when Rotors leaned down to kiss him, slamming his port over First Aid’s cord, chasing his overload, First Aid whimpered against his mouth and came hard, deep in the soft, clenching heat of him. 

Green groaned long and low, the vibrations making First Aid’s armour ring. He slowed until Aid could feel every last node catching against his walls, his opening. Exhausted, First Aid could only lay there, his spike buried deep, his valve invaded again and again so slow and slick and wide, and when he finally came it was with a selfish sudden lurch, filling Aid so completely that the pressure of his fluids pushed Aid’s internal walls to their absolute capacity. 

“Uuurgh, Primus.” Green gave a few more slow, luxuriant thrusts before withdrawing. First Aid whimpered and the fluids spilled, his valve so empty all of a sudden, leaking and stinging with a waft of cooling air. “Can’t tell you how much I needed that,” Green said, getting to his feet. He gave Aid an appreciative look. “Thanks, Tex. I got places to be, but if you wanna bring him over to C Block some time, I know my squad could get some use from him.”

First Aid’s valve clenched at the thought, and he let slip a helpless whimper. 

“Good little bot,” Rotors crooned, leaning down to nibble on First Aid’s lower lip, as he raised himself from the cord. He stood shakily, and shuddered, his rotors rattling. “Next time,” he said. “I’m gonna take that sweet valve. See you around.” 

First Aid slumped. He hoped that was a promise. He should have asked, but he couldn’t bring himself to engage his vocaliser. He sighed, the new aches beginning to make themselves felt. The strain on his hips and arms, the well-used pulsing of his valve. His cord retreated halfway into its housing. If Vortex wanted to take him one more time, he was open and ready, and if only he could put voice to that. 

“Beautiful,” Vortex whispered, bending to uncouple the cuffs. He gathered First Aid into his arms. “I think that’s enough for now.” 

First Aid murmured a response, and it certainly wasn’t agreement. That wasn’t enough, he could go further, take more. He flared his energy field, and Vortex kissed his filthy cheek. He brought his optics back online, unaware that they’d shut down. The light had changed, the view different. He was in Vortex’s arms still, carried through a cosy passageway, lit a deep blue. The walls were textured and uneven, the light diffuse. It was hard to get a handle on anything, but it was clear from the change in Euphoria’s energy field that they had transitioned to the Out of Play Area. 

A door swished open in front of them, revealing an azure room with gleaming tiled walls and a shower already running. The door closed behind them, the lock engaging. First Aid reached for Vortex’s rotors, and got as far as stroking the engine mount on the top of his arm. 

“I want you,” he said, and Vortex laughed, an indulgent, pleased sound. 

“I’m here,” he said, putting his hand out to test the temperature of the water before stepping into the shower. 

“I want you inside me,” First Aid managed. “You promised me ridges. I want to feel you.”

Vortex kissed the top of his helm. “Shower, increase water pressure by fifteen percent,” he said, then asked, “Aren’t you sore?”

Aid licked his lips. “A little,” he said. He squirmed and Vortex let him sit himself up, looping his arms around the rotary’s neck. “I will be tomorrow. Can we interface here?” He knew full well they could - the lock was on, the shower was their private space - but he asked anyway. “I really really want you.” He leaned in for a kiss, and Vortex tightened his grip, a fire in his energy field. He was pliant, at first, then more forceful as First Aid managed to throw the force of his desire into his energy field. 

“Wrap your legs around me,” Vortex said, and Aid complied, pulling him back into a kiss as fierce and needy as the lingering empty itch in his valve. 

“Please… I need this now!”

“We’ll see,” Vortex said. He moved them outside of the flow of the water. “Cables first,” he said. “I want to know I won’t damage you.”

“Tell me you want it,” First Aid moaned, letting the cover fall from his hardline array, his cables swinging free. “Please, I can feel how hot you are.”

“Of course I want you,” Vortex whispered, securing their cables and pulling them back into the shower. “How could I not want you? Mmmm, you did so well.”

“You like watching others screw me,” First Aid said, and it was so much easier now to avoid the cleaner language. “Frag me, please!” He invited Vortex to share the output from his sensors, showed how much more forceful the need was than the stretched soreness. 

“Are you sure I won’t-”

“Please!” First Aid moaned, reaching into the interface to Vortex’s own input, seeking after the signals from his cord. “You want me, I’m here. I’m yours.”

Vortex pressed him gently to the wall. “If it gets uncomfortable, I’m stopping. OK?”

First Aid licked his lips. “OK.”

With their perceptions overlapping, it was easy to encourage another kiss, then another, and First Aid felt some of the urgency ebb with the certainty that he was again to be filled. He cycled down with his valve, and sighed at the combined sensations of the aching soreness of his used equipment, the thrill of entry, the needy surge of charge from Vortex as his cord slid smoothly home. 

“Ridges,” First Aid reminded him, and Vortex laughed, rocking slowly inside him. The first transformation he could hardly feel after the sheer size of Green’s girth. The second rubbed his sensors and massaged his walls. The third caught his ceiling node, and he drew Vortex into the longest, deepest kiss, trapped safe against the shower wall, dripping with the sweet scented water and the fluids from multiple interfaces. 

The fourth transformation was a little too much, and Vortex quickly reverted, to First Aid’s obvious pleasure. Not breaking the kiss, he cast his enjoyment into the interface, his physical need and the strong desire for closeness, for intimate lasting touches. 

He was not quick to come, and the the cycle of arousal grew and ebbed several times before the soreness began to make itself a little too present, and Vortex brought him to climax through the interface and the sharing of his own intense arousal brought about by the presence of First Aid wrapped so securely around him. 

Aid held onto the bloom of heat for as long as he could, his sensors firing on random, his frame experiencing little areas of temporary numbness. He opened his mouth to express how good it was, but his vocaliser simply crackled.

“So you’ve enjoyed yourself?” Vortex teased.

First Aid coughed to reboot his vocaliser. “Almost as much as I’ve enjoyed you,” he replied, groaning as Vortex finally withdrew. He expected to be set down, but Vortex continued to hold him, grabbing a sponge to soap him down, manoeuvring him to reach his every angle. “Feels nice,” First Aid yawned, wanting to return the favour, but his limbs were so heavy. He lay his head on Vortex’s shoulder and shivered as Vortex gently cleaned his equipment. 

When the water finally finished and the dryers had evaporated the moisture from their frames, Vortex took them into a small adjacent room. One of Zone Six’s quiet rooms, it was dark and soft, the floor piled with a thick layer of cushions, the walls padded. A scatter of tiny lights glimmered in the ceiling. First Aid let himself be laid down, and rolled into Vortex’s arms. A subtle breeze drew the hot air from their vents, and carried the scents of the Summer Garden from Zone Three. 

“Your friends,” First Aid murmured, the thought of the scene still filling him with a sleepy excitement. “Tell them thank you?”

Vortex kissed the back of his neck and wound more tightly around him. Whatever he said in reply First Aid missed as he slipped into recharge.


End file.
